The Last Archangel: Four Aren't Better Than One
by Alatar Maia
Summary: Even machines built by megalomaniacal evil geniuses could affect angels. It was just really, really bad luck that the one who managed to stumble into its path had a serious case of identity issues. Cowritten with inukagome15.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay guys so holy shit did I tell you I was doing a co-author piece for the Last Archangel with inukagome15?**

 **No?**

 **[In case you couldn't tell I'm super excited about it]**

 **This is about half of what we've written so far, so the second chapter will probably show up relatively soon. In any case, I think it turned out pretty well. I will completely unabashedly say that the idea was mostly mine, but inukagome got pretty into it as well.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Marvel. Or the majority of the Last Archangel, but considering I worked with the owner to write this I don't think that needs to be included.**

* * *

Honestly, they'd only gone to track down Doom in the first place because it was easier to do that and overthrow him (or something along those lines) than to deal with his stupid robot attacks every month or so.

You'd think he'd find another superhero team or major city to bother, but no. Always New York.

It got to the point where they'd rather invade his stupid, booby-trapped castle than deal with it.

"Stop calling it stupid," Steve said impatiently over the comms. "You've said it at least ten times by now. We get it."

" _But it is!_ " Tony's voice was crackly over the wavelength. " _Come on, Steve, he can't even build proper robots. And this castle is, frankly, a disaster. Who built this thing?_ "

" _Probably Doom,_ " Natasha replied, grunting as she dealt with some of the defenses - i.e., more robots.

" _That explains a lot,_ " Steve heard faintly. " _I mean, he can't even build a decent booby trap._ "

Ignoring Clint's snigger (you'd think a grown man could handle hearing the word 'booby'), Steve replied, "You disabled them all before they could activate."

" _He could have put in a backup plan._ "

" _A backup plan for angels?_ " Steve could hear Peggy's grin. " _I don't think that exists, Tony._ "

" _Well, he could at least try._ " There was a moment of silence during which a roar echoed faintly. " _I see Hulk's having fun. Anyone got eyes on him?_ "

" _Nope,_ " Clint answered, everyone else echoing him. " _Well, I saw him a little while ago, but he's moved on now._ "

" _Okay._ " Pause " _I've almost cracked this place's force-field magic whatever, so if anyone's coming in with me or close enough – get ready._ "

"On your call," Steve said, jumping over a felled tree and sprinting towards the castle that loomed on the hill. Whatever else could be said about Doom, he was definitely more than a little dramatic.

* * *

" _Ohshi—"_

The comms crackled, a whirr and a piercing noise making Steve wince and put a hand to his ear. It lasted barely a second, but the silence that came afterwards was what worried him.

"Tony?" No answer was forthcoming. Trying not to panic, Steve made for the door Tony had found. When he rounded the corner, Peggy and Gadreel were already breaking through it in their hurry to get to Tony.

There was a slew of rubble on the other side, a corner of the wall having been blasted off. The scorch marks on the pieces made Steve think it had been a repulsor. "JARVIS, you got anything on Tony?" He asked, not slowing down.

" _Mr. Stark exited the suit before going down,_ " JARVIS said, worry evident in his voice. " _I have the location of the suit, but not him. He thought he heard someone and went to investigate._ "

Steve swore under his breath, walking into the room. The suit stood at the far end, eyes glowing in the dim light. A door was open near it; before any of the three could do anything, however, there was a crash and two people came tumbling through it.

One of them was Doom.

The other was Tony.

Steve lunged towards the pair, a figure appearing and pulling Tony away from the enraged scientist, but—

Wait a minute.

That wasn't Gadreel.

That was Tony, too.

The first Tony looked just as bewildered, but the second one only glanced at Steve with a strangely blank expression, then vanished with an all-too-familiar flutter of wings.

It took Doom trying to get at Tony again for Steve to react, spinning into action and sending his shield hurtling through the air, hitting Doom in the stomach. He went down with a pained grunt, even his armor unable to stand up to the force of Steve's vibranium shield.

"Tony, are you all right?" Steve asked, looking him over closely. He wouldn't usually have asked, but something wasn't right. Tony hadn't even made an effort to shield himself from Doom, despite the suit being mere feet away. He looked bewildered, like he was forgetting something important.

It wasn't a look Steve had ever seen on him before.

"I…think?" Tony sounded doubtful of this. "I'm just…" He looked down at Doom. "I probably shouldn't have messed with a machine built by a man calling himself Doom."

" _What?_ " Clint asked over the comms. " _What's going on?_ "

"I'm not sure," Steve answered, keeping an eye on Tony as he backed away from Doom. "I'll get back to you on that." Tony's sense of humor was definitely intact.

"You saw that, too, didn't you?" Peggy asked him, eyes on Doom and Tony. Her visor was doubtlessly giving her readings as to Tony's vital signs, and she didn't seem overly worried, which was good.

But Gadreel frowned, his eyes elsewhere.

Doom was getting up, one hand on Steve's shield. He looked up at him, glaring through the eyeholes of his mask. "You will pay for this, Captain. Attacking me in Latveria without justifiable cause...I will see you all drawn and quartered!"

"I don't know," Tony said. "I think attacking New York on a near monthly basis is enough cause for us to come and bust your door down."

"I have diplomatic immunity," Doom said with great dignity, snapping his head around to glare at Tony.

"Immunity, schimnuity," Tony's voice said. Another Tony appeared behind Doom, one eyebrow raised and a shit-eating grin on his face. "I always found politics boring."

Steve blinked. "I'm…what? Tony?"

"That'd be me, yes," the first Tony said, also looking at the second Tony that had appeared.

"You," the second Tony was saying to Doom, "you pissed me off. I mean, _so_ not cool. You just don't _do_ that, you know? Hitting me like that out of the blue…" He screwed his nose up, looking the picture of offended. "I think I'm totally justified in saying that that was completely uncalled for."

Doom didn't have time to protest before the second Tony was moving, grabbing him by the throat and throwing him across the room. Doom crashed into the wall, cracking the stone. His armor seemed to protect him from the worst of the damage, since he got up again, but Tony – the one who had thrown him – was in front of him again in the blink of an eye.

The first Tony had ducked behind a table that someone had knocked over and Steve joined him, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You all right?"

"Yeah, I just—" Tony pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead. "Trying to figure out what happened."

"You don't know?" Steve was distracted momentarily from his worry when Doom started shouting.

"Unhand me!"

"Yeah, that's gonna happen." It was Tony's voice, but Tony was sitting in front of him – so which one was the real one?

" _What's going on?_ " Natasha asked curtly.

"I don't—" Steve started, only to cut off as there was another smacking sound when the Tony fighting Doom threw him around again. He heard another flutter of wings and looked up to see that Gadreel had disappeared.

"Is this normal?" Peggy slipped into view, coming to crouch besides Steve. "Tony separating into different people?"

Steve shook his head, and at the same time there were several disbelieving exclamations from over the comms.

" _I'm sorry - what?!_ " Clint sounded startled.

" _He split into different people?_ " Natasha was disbelieving.

"I'm definitely me," Tony informed Steve. "There's nothing _but_ me in there."

"In where?" Steve looked askance at him.

Tony pointed through the door he'd come out of. "That machine did something weird, but—" He winced, pressing his hand more forcefully against his head. "I _know_ I don't usually get headaches. Something's up."

Steve did his best to ignore the shouting and general ruckus the other Tony and Doom were causing, but it was difficult. "Do angels get headaches?"

"Nope." Tony lowered at his hand, staring at it like he'd never seen it before. "You don't think—"

The door crashed open again, and both of them turned sharply to see whether it was friend or foe.

The scene in the room was frozen for a moment. Steve and Tony were crouched behind an overturned table, Peggy standing near them with her gun raised protectively. Clint and Natasha had just burst through the door, dismembered Doombots lying on the floor behind them and occasionally fizzing with electricity.

The other Tony stood in the middle of the room, crouched over Doom and head raised to observe the newcomers.

"So," he said, far too casually for the situation. "Couple of you were late to the party, huh?"

"You know," Clint began, "I was kinda hoping this was a joke."

"I think it would be obvious by now that the weird shit always happens to us," the Tony next to Steve said. "It's like Murphy's law." He probably meant to lighten the mood. Steve would have given him a 'not now' look, except he was focused on the Tony currently standing on Doom.

"But why?" Clint groaned. "I've had enough of this with the weird stuff you keep bringing back home."

"Oh, you're blaming this on me, now?" Tony complained. "Blame Doom; it was his freakin' machine."

"Well, if the shoe fits…" Clint winced as Natasha stepped on his foot, jerking her head to the other Tony contemplating Doom, who was still lying prostrate under him, having accepted the fact that he was utterly outclassed.

"You know," the other Tony said contemplatively, looking back down at Doom, "I think I know just what to do with you. It's perfect, really. Don't know why no one's thought of it before."

"This isn't going to end well," Peggy said, swiftly standing.

"I wouldn't—" Tony started, about to reach out to stop her.

Steve had no idea what happened next beyond the other Tony snapping his fingers in a familiar motion. In the same moment,, a shiny statue of Viktor von Doom appeared before him, standing in a regal pose that was ruined by the giant dunce cap crowning his head.

It wouldn't have been that weird, except it happened at the same moment that Doom disappeared from under the other Tony's feet.

The other Tony beamed. "Perfect."

"What the fuck." Clint blinked. "Tony, did you just – did you just turn Doctor Doom into a statue?"

The other Tony held up his hand. "Ah, I'm not done." Giving the Doom statue a contemplative look, he snapped his fingers again, the statue disappearing from the room. "Now I am. Continue." He gestured vaguely at Clint.

Steve stood up cautiously, holding his shield in front of him – just in case. "Who are you?"

The other Tony grinned at him. "I'm Tony," he said, as if it should have been obvious, and then tilted his head to the side. "Well, mostly. _That"—_ he pointed to the Tony now standing next to Peggy—"is Tony. Nice name, but—" He sighed, shaking his head. "Doesn't really suit me, y'know? It's more his name than it is mine."

"He's the _Trickster_ ," the Tony next to Peggy said, eyes on the other one.

Other Tony – the trickster – snapped his fingers, pointing at Tony. "Yes. Exactly. You still remember, don't you?" He was still grinning – it was an unnervingly predatory look, one that didn't belong on Tony's face. "I was _wondering_  
about that…seeing as I _know_ I don't have all of mine, does that mean that the rest of you have the rest of _them_?"

"Rest of you?" Steve's eyes flickered towards Tony before returning to the Trickster, who was undoubtedly the most dangerous being in the room at the moment.

Gadreel picked that moment to appear again, right behind the Trickster. He gave the Trickster a dirty look, one that Steve had only seen him give Thaddeus in a completely different universe. "Please don't."

The Trickster looked back at Gadreel. "'Please don't' what?" He sounded mocking. "Please don't cause chaos? Please don't mete out justice? Sorry to burst your bubble, _angel_ , but that's kinda my job description."

"I'm aware, as the brief description Gabriel gave me of your character was certainly enlightening," Gadreel replied.

"Oh, hey, I remember _him_ ," Tony said suddenly, drawing everyone's attention. "Kind of."

"Gadreel, are you telling me that _Gabriel_ is somewhere out there?" Steve was aware he sounded rather dismayed, but it was rather difficult to be anything but.

"He pulled you out of Doom's path," Gadreel said, nodding towards Tony. "I was confused as to how you had become divided into two people, so I pursued him in search of an explanation."

"Two people?" Natasha said tersely. "What do you mean?"

"The one I spoke to moments ago was Gabriel," Gadreel said quietly. "The one next to Peggy is Tony. And you…" He regarded the Trickster with something like contempt. "You are a part of him I hoped we would never have to see."

"Well," a voice that sounded like Tony said, "that doesn't bode well for me."

Heart sinking slightly, Steve turned towards the door.

Another Tony was leaning against the doorframe, observing the events. "Don't mind me," he said conversationally. "I'm just the audience."

"Christ," Clint said. "How many of you are there?"

"Only four," the fourth Tony said. Gadreel was looking at him with barely concealed distaste, which was odd, since the being looked exactly like Tony.

He definitely wasn't, though – that much was obvious.

"Loki," Gadreel said, making Steve do a double-take and take a closer look at the one in the doorway, who grinned.

"It's nice to be recognized," Loki-Tony said, standing up straight and leisurely. His hands were resting in his pockets, and he didn't look like he had any intention of fighting – but then again, looks could be misleading. " _I,_ however, don't know you, so if you'll excuse me—"

"Whoa, hold on," Clint said, stepping forward. "We can't let you just—"

"Did I ask for permission?" Loki's hands were by his side, and just raising one was enough to make Clint stop. Loki smirked. " _No_ , is the answer you're looking for."

"What about Tony?" Peggy asked, standing her ground as Loki turned to look at her. "Surely you have to realize that you're all the same person. Do you really want to stay separate?"

Loki's smirk had become more of a lazy, knowing grin. "As a matter of fact," he said, "yes."

He vanished in a crackle of green before anyone had the chance to reply.

"That's my cue, then," the trickster commented. Gadreel lunged at him, but the being vanished in a puff of something faintly blue before the angel could catch him.

"That went well," Tony said airily. "I think I get it now, what people mean when they say you wouldn't recognize yourself if you met them."

"This is not the time," Gadreel said shortly.

"It's always the time."

"Tony," Steve interrupted, "seriously. Just, stop for a second."

"And by the way," Clint said, "other-you is an asshole. Both of them."

"Thanks, Clint, that means a lot."

"We should return to the Tower," Gadreel said, before they could go any further, "and decide what to do next."

Sobering, Tony looked back at the room where the mysterious machine that was responsible for this mess was located. "I'm gonna need that machine."

"If you're thinking of using it to split a certain someone who gets very angry into two, I vote no," Clint objected.

" _No,_ I _wasn't,_ actually. Having Hulk around 24/7 would be a terrible idea. I think I broke it, anyway." Steve turned to follow Tony as the latter started descending the stairs, hearing more footsteps behind him as the team followed.

"You broke it?" he echoed. "How?"

"No idea," Tony said. "I'll figure it out."

* * *

Jarvis looked worried when they got back to the tower and Steve saw him again, but then again he had a right to be. They all remembered how things had ended up the last time Tony lost his memory.

At least this time it wasn't _everything._

"I'm not dead, you know," Tony said, scratching the side of his neck absentmindedly and squinting at his cell phone. He put it away a few seconds later. "You can stop giving me that look, J."

"Your vitals are different," Jarvis said, concerned.

"I was just split into quarters," Tony pointed out, sounding utterly indifferent about the entire affair.

"He is healthy," Gadreel assured Jarvis, not looking away from the "evil machine of doom," as Tony had called it as they were transporting it.

"Um, in case you forgot, I'm standing right next to you, Gadreel." Tony gave the machine a thoughtful look. "But I admit the machine's kind of striking…if you get past the whole 'created by Doom' thing."

"Speaking of Doom…" Jarvis looked pained. "There have been reports of a statue bearing his likeness appearing in Times Square. Efforts to remove it have been unsuccessful so far, and all attempts at contacting the Latverian Embassy have failed."

"Because that's Doom," Clint said, fingering the sharp head of an arrow that Tony had been working on a few days ago. "Which crazy Tony turned him into."

"I'm going to go ahead and be offended by that," Tony said, "since, technically, he's me."

"You are both parts of Gabriel," Gadreel reminded Tony. "But you are different parts, so technically—"

"Yeah, I get it." Tony walked around the catwalk that had been set up in the room. It had been attached to the machine, so they'd had no choice but to bring it. Luckily, the Tower had the room to hold it. Several parts of it were dented, like something – multiple, very heavy somethings – had been thrown away from the machine. "Still got no idea what this thing was meant to do. Unless Doom was _trying_ to split himself into halves or something."

"We can figure it out," Bruce said, walking around to the other side and squatting to inspect it from a different angle. "Doom's no genius."

"He's a mad genius," Natasha pointed out.

"I'd put him a bit more on the 'mad' side," Peggy said, leaning against the metal railing. Her hair was still in the braid she had put it in before the fight. "I've dealt with enough men like him to know the difference."

"Are you getting anything from this?" Steve asked Jarvis and Gadreel.

"I will need to run more extensive scans before I can ascertain anything," Jarvis answered, eyes blanking for a second before refocusing on Steve.

"It appears to be magical in nature," was Gadreel's response.

Tony instantly grimaced. "No, really? Ugh, come _on_." His nose wrinkled further. "I hate magic." He seemed oblivious to everyone's stares.

It was Gadreel who spoke first, eyebrows furrowed. "I would not have expected that of you."

"It makes no _sense_ ," Tony complained. "It's all just"—he waved his hands vaguely—"and then _poof_. Where's the science behind it?"

Clint was filming Tony, possibly for Pepper to see later. He could also be doing it for blackmail purposes, but ordinarily Tony didn't mind a bit of blackmail.

Whatever he did later usually ended up being worse than what had been instigated against him in the first place. Bucky had stopped trying to rile him up because after Tony turned his prank around on him – which had left Bucky stranded in an ice rink without an escape hatch for hours – even though he was still nursing a sore spot about the slippery floors on the Helicarrier.

"You realize how ironic that sounds, right?" Steve tried to laugh, but Tony just continued staring intently at the machine like he was trying to x-ray it, sans suit.

"Sort of," he said absentmindedly. "I just don't get how it works. I know I _used_ to, but—" He gestured vaguely, not really succeeding in getting anything across.

"So you remember some things," Natasha said.

"I remember my life," Tony said, looking up at the ceiling. "And then there's a point where it's a bit like looking through warped glass…like remembering a dream. After that, it clears up for a short period"—he glanced askance at Steve—"but then the same thing…" He shrugged.

Tilting his head thoughtfully, Gadreel said slowly, "That must have been when you were one with Gabriel."

Tony shrugged again, dropping his gaze once more to the machine. "I can't really say. But I think remember some of it like it was a really nutty dream."

"But you remember enough?" Jarvis asked suddenly.

Steve understood instantly what Jarvis was referring to, but there was a brief second of confusion on Tony's face before he also seemed to understand.

"Yeah," Tony said, already half-turning to the door of the workshop. "It's okay, J." He cracked a grin. "You're a hard guy to forget."

Jarvis's answering smile was strained. "It did happen."

Tony's head dropped in acknowledgement, at the same time as the workshop doors slid open and Bucky entered, zeroing in on Steve.

"Is it too much trouble for you to _keep me updated_?" Bucky demanded, poking Steve in the chest once he was close enough to do so. "I had to hear from You that you were back! JARVIS kept giving me the brush-off."

"I'm sorry," Steve said guiltily. "I forgot."

"I get it," Bucky said. "The machine's shiny, but you're not Tony. You can come upstairs or give me a ring and let me know that New York's protectors are back."

"Dad!" Sam's voice shouted - or shrieked, really. The sound reverberated through the workshop, Steve's ears ringing from the volume.

There was a brief flicker of what seemed like panic on Tony's face before a small figure darted into the room, taking a flying leap at him. He staggered, arms coming up on reflex, but kept his balance. Then another, bigger body joined the fray, and Tony hit the floor.

There was a stunned sort of silence for several seconds, the two bodies on top of Tony's utterly still in surprise.

Against Steve's side, Butterfingers pressed her fingers to the back of his hand, whispering, "Is he okay?"

"I'm okay," Tony groaned, answering the question for Steve, sounding pained. "Just…give me a minute."

"Are you hurt?" Sam asked worriedly, small hands patting at Tony's face.

Dummy rolled off Sam and Tony, looking guilty. "Sorry!"

"It's fine." Tony stood up, carrying Sam's weight more easily now. "Give me a warning next time, though. You two are getting heavy. What do you eat, bricks?"

"You lift cars with one hand," Butterfingers pointed out, You nodding in agreement next to her.

"That was once. And on a dare," Tony said. "And I'm not really in the right shape for that right now."

Dummy grabbed at Tony's waist, looking up at him with big eyes. "Are you sick?" he asked, voice wavering. "But…you don't get sick! And nothing's exploding."

"I don't explode things when I get sick!"

Steve couldn't help but remember how bad Tony had been before; he hadn't, strictly speaking, been sick, but it was close enough that he couldn't quite call what Tony had said the truth. And he knew there had been some violent incidents since coming back home, even if Tony hadn't spoken of them. The lights of the tower had never tended to flicker before.

"He's not sick," Natasha said. "He just got in the way of this machine."

Dummy peered up at it, climbing higher on the railing of the catwalk. "What does it do?"

"We're trying to figure that out." Bruce peered around one of the metal supporting struts. "Ah, maybe don't try and touch it or anything—"

Dummy hopped back down before Steve could ask him to. "Okay." He looked back up at Tony. "So what happened?"

'That," Tony replied, "is a _really_ weird story and we should probably get everyone else together so I don't have to explain it more than once."

* * *

"Okay, so…" Pepper looked like she dearly wished Tony would stop getting into trouble all the time. Or at least, that's what Steve was getting from her expression. "There's four of you. Running around doing who-knows-what."

"Technically, I'm one-fourth of me and the other three-fourths are running around, etc." Tony was surprisingly relaxed – or, well, not that surprisingly. He _was_ still Tony Stark. "But yes, in a nutshell."

"You know what," Rhodey said from where they had him projected on the wall, "I'm not even surprised anymore. I've reached my limit. Nothing is gonna be crazy after some of the stuff you've done."

"Sometimes I just want to go and sun myself on a nice beach in Hawaii," Pepper said, sighing. "But then I remember that I turn into a lobster if left too long in the sun. And that the board would all resign within the week if you were left to your own devices."

"That's ridiculous," Tony said. "I say a few days, at most. Definitely not a week. They're politicians."

Pepper made a face at him. "That isn't at all reassuring, Tony."

"What – you want a vacation?" Tony spread his hands. "I think you've got several years of vacation days, actually—"

"Good Lord, no, you'd set the city on fire if I left you alone that long."

"If we could get back on topic?" Rhodey interrupted. "I'm confused, though. I get that you're Tony and one of you is Gabriel, but who are the other two then?"

"Loki," Gadreel answered, eyes on the table. "And a being known as the Trickster."

"I still don't get what a trickster _is."_ Clint sounded frustrated. "Yeah, so he turned Doom into a statue and stuck him in Times Square. What's that supposed to do for him?"

"Gabriel explained it to me," Gadreel said, looking up at the group. "A trickster is a demigod of sorts, a being that sets itself up as judge and jury when it finds someone it thinks is deserving of justice. And, more often than not, it also serves as an executioner." His face was sober. "Which he did to Doom."

"His idea of delivering justice to Doom was turning him into a statue and sticking him in Times Square?" Rhodey asked incredulously.

"I was told they have a sense of humor, albeit a warped one."

"I knew your sense of humor wasn't natural," Clint told Tony, who just made a face at him.

"If I may interrupt," Jarvis said. "There are already many internet forums dedicated to the statue – trying to figure out where it came from and so on. Doom is a particularly self-consumed man. I imagine the idea of so many people dedicated to him would thrill him."

"So," Natasha said slowly, "the Trickster gave him exactly what he wanted, but made sure he wouldn't be able to enjoy it."

"Hold up," Rhodey said. "Is no one else paying attention to the 'executioner' bit? You're telling me this trickster _regularly_ kills people? Because it thinks they deserve it? I thought you said it was a part of Tony."

"It is," Tony insisted, not meeting anyone's eyes. "He is, I mean."

"We all have our dark sides," Natasha said softly, glancing sidelong at Tony.

"None of us have ever killed for fun," Clint said flatly.

"It wasn't for fun," Tony said immediately, and then looked bewildered.

"You remember being the Trickster?" Steve's stomach had plummeted when Gadreel said 'executioner,' and for a minute he thought – or hoped – he'd heard wrong.

"Not really." Tony looked uncomfortable. "I mean – I definitely _used_ to have memories of that, but – I just get the feeling that it wasn't. He thought they deserved it."

"You don't remember?" Pepper looked concerned, leaning over the table towards Tony. "How much did you forget?"

"I remember being Tony," Tony replied, frowning at the table in thought. "And then…anything from before then, or when I was Gabriel – when I had more than just a soul, I guess – that's sort of blurry."

Natasha seemed to have come to a realization. "You're Tony," she said. "You've just got memories of when you _were_ Tony. Maybe the memories of being an angel all went to the part of you that was Gabriel."

"It makes sense," Bruce said slowly, twiddling with his glasses. "I mean, I doubt Doom could create anything that could copy memories or mess with them. Strange might be able to, but he's not here to ask. Maybe they just got split between the four of you."

Gadreel looked thoughtful. "Given that Loki did not recognize me, and the Trickster identified me solely as an angel, I think that this is the most likely answer for what has happened."

"We've got _another_ Loki running around?" Rhodey ran a hand over his face. "You think that's something our Loki could handle?"

"I am uncertain, given the differences between the pagan gods of my home universe and the ones here." Gadreel was visibly frustrated. "I am afraid that my time spent in Heaven's prison has done me no favors in terms of my knowledge of anything nonhuman."

"Wh – Heaven has a prison?" Bruce looked absolutely gobsmacked, mouth open in stunned surprise. " _Heaven_?"

"I know," Clint said casually. "Even the nice places lock people up."

"Don't worry," Gadreel said, seemingly uncaring of the bombshell he had just dropped on half of the room. "The prison is for the angels, not the human souls."

"Because that's Hell," Tony added.

"Which went wrong somewhere," Gadreel said, mouth twisting slightly. "But enough. We were speaking of Loki." He took a breath. "Given the talents he has shown, I would say that the Loki of this universe should be capable of handling him."

"Do we need to 'handle' him?" Pepper looked worried. "He's a part of Tony. Can't we just…convince them to go back together? Do we know how to do that yet?"

"So far, I haven't been able to tell much about the machine," Bruce admitted.

"Loki said he didn't want to get back together," Peggy reminded them. Steve jumped – he hadn't heard her come in.

"He didn't?" Pepper sounded bewildered. "Why not?"

"He didn't stick around long enough to give a reason." Peggy took the empty seat at the end of the table, blocking the projector for a moment. "Sorry, Rhodes. In any case, I don't know why they'd _want_ to stay separate, and we'll only get answers if we find them. The Trickster didn't seem too keen on it either."

Setting a tablet on the table, Peggy let JARVIS pull out its data and display it in a set of holograms in the center of the group. Video clips and blog posts rotated before them, along with blurry pictures.

"I've been going through the information JARVIS has compiled and putting together a map of sorts," Peggy said, tapping a stylus against the table. "We need to keep track of the locations of the Trickster and Loki. Tracking Gabriel is out of the question at the moment, but our two other friends aren't as successful at laying low."

Peggy pulled up a map with green and red dots highlighted in various locations. "The Iron Man suit on site recorded energy signatures that could be attributed to the two, and we've been able to track them to these general locations. There's a margin of error, but it isn't that big. Green is Loki, red is the Trickster."

"They're not going to stay out in the open, though," Bucky pointed out from the back, finally speaking up. "Even split up into quarters, they're still smart enough to realize that would be just stupid."

"Which means we need to go after them before they find a way to disguise themselves," Steve said.

"We may be too late for that," Peggy informed them apologetically. She magnified a video clip that was several minutes long. "Jarvis found this posted a few minutes ago, but as you can see…"

The clip was shaky – probably taken from somebody's phone – and whoever was talking was speaking some dialect that Steve wasn't immediately familiar with. The view abruptly switched, and someone mentioned Tony Stark, clearly surprised.

The man they were filming was obviously Tony, looking at something out of the camera's view. It took only a moment for him to realize he was being filmed, looking sharply at the camera and making the person holding it exclaim in the same language.

He stared for a moment, then turned away. Peggy paused it at the same moment, giving the group a clear view of how his hair was suddenly brushing his collar and much lighter than it had been moments previously. It was difficult to tell, but Steve thought he even looked shorter.

"Well, great." Clint sounded as irritated as he looked. "Now how are we supposed to find them?"

"Was that Loki or the other guy?" Rhodey asked.

"Loki, I believe," Peggy said, fingers skimming over the map and enlarging it. "Their power signatures are remarkably similar, when it comes down to it."

"There is an additional margin of error to be accounted for when calculating whether the target is Loki or the Trickster," Jarvis said. "I can only advise caution."

"But it's not like they're going to hurt _us_ , right?" Clint asked, half-chuckling. "I mean, we're all friends…"

"That depends," Tony said slowly, not at all boosting Steve's confidence.

"On what?" Peggy's voice was calm.

"On whether they remember you."

"I think it's rather safe to say," Bucky said nonchalantly, "that we're probably as close to fucked as we ever get. Who wants dibs?"

"Let's not be hasty, James," Natasha cautioned, though there was a small smile pulling at her lips. "We still don't have a plan."

"We're not killing them," Tony said sharply. "We've no idea what that will do."

"That wasn't ever the plan," Steve reassured him. "We'll bring them in alive."

"But maybe not all in one piece," Clint added. "I'm sure you can heal yourself."

"That doesn't mean it's not painful, you ass."

"Let's keep the violence and maiming to a minimum," Steve interrupted, eyebrows scrunched together disapprovingly. He heard Bucky snort and mutter something under his breath. "We don't know what we're up against, whether they're hostile or friendly, and we still have to figure out what that machine did."

"We know what it did," Tony said. "But how's another question."

"Which will be interesting to find out," Bruce added.

"It's a shame Doom's not around for me to ask," Natasha said, sounding disappointed. "I would've enjoyed prying that out of him."

"No doubt," Peggy agreed. "But then we would've had to deal with a diplomatic incident that would make S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fall look like a birthday party."

"Diplomatic immunity doesn't work that way," Rhodey complained, "but no one ever listens to me when I point that out."

"It's magic," Pepper said, only sounding slightly like she was joking.

"That, and people still give me the stink eye for up and vanishing during the Leviathan thing." Steve was surprised that Rhodey still brought that up – but then again, it hadn't been _that_ long ago.

"Was a god hauling you out not official enough?" Clint had a small smirk on his face.

"Because he's an _alien_." Rhodey waved a hand. "And you know how the U.S. government is about aliens. Even aliens that are mythological Norse gods. And now we have _two_ Lokis running around. As if one wasn't enough."

"Should we call Loki?" Bruce suggested. "The one who isn't Tony, I mean. He might be able to help, not just fight."

"He might not be able to come," Natasha pointed out. "They might be busy with things on Asgard."

"No harm in trying." Tony got up. "Who remembers that all-seeing guy's name?"

* * *

 **Review, please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, chapter two already! I admit the majority of this [aka, all except the last few lines] had already been written when I posted the last chapter, but it's nice to have more than you need written so we've got the beginning of the next chapter, at least.**

 **Anyway, I hope you guys like how we've written Gabriel!Loki - it was a little confusing, having two Lokis in one scene, but hopefully it's clear enough that you can tell which one we mean.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Avengers**

* * *

There was no immediate response to their call, and by the time Loki arrived on the balcony in a rainbow-colored display of lights, Tony was the only one in the penthouse waiting.

Although it couldn't really be called 'waiting,' since he'd fallen asleep on the couch.

Loki entered quietly, a frown crossing his face when he noticed him. In the short time he had spent with Gabriel, the other had never once slept. The only human indulgences he had allowed himself were sweets and the occasional drink.

That Gabriel was sleeping like this was puzzling, especially as Loki had expected him awake and ready to explain why they had called on Heimdall to send Loki to Midgard.

Surreptitiously casting a small spell to check that Gabriel's vitals were in order, Loki went over and studied him more closely. It took a second for the spell to give Loki the results, to which he huffed out a disgruntled breath. Gabriel's vitals were all perfectly within normal, human limits.

But his heart rate did seem to be increasing, and not in a healthy way.

Waiting, Loki watched as Gabriel shifted restlessly, muttering under his breath. There were a few denials, a whimper, and then a pained groan.

It was when Gabriel whispered "Stop," that Loki decided enough was enough and woke him up by shaking his shoulder. "Gabriel."

Gabriel did not wake immediately, so Loki shook him again, repeating his name.

Jolting upright, Gabriel flinched away from Loki's hand, eyes wild. "No!"

Taking a careful step back, lest Gabriel do something he would later regret, Loki put up his hands. "It's all right, Gabriel. You are quite safe."

"Safe?" Gabriel blinked rather owlishly, sounding a bit too much like Anthony for Loki's comfort. In fact, there had not even been any explosions, which Loki would have expected given the nightmare. "I don't – oh." He looked Loki up and down as if registering who he was. "You're late."

"There were important matters to attend to," Loki said delicately, not caring to inform him that the 'important matters' were more trying to make sure the Warriors Three (now two) failed to destroy half the palace with one of their bets. That Thor had been too busy grinning at their antics had not helped matters.

"I'm sure," Gabriel said, standing and rubbing at his eyes. He was regaining his color quickly. "Hey, JARVIS, can you call Peggy up? She can show Loki what we've got so far."

"Of course," JARVIS replied immediately.

"Is this important?" Loki asked, looking round the penthouse once to make sure everything was in order. Then again, one never knew with Gabriel. He still had that accursed scepter stashed somewhere on his person, and there would come the day that Asgard might have to ask for it back.

Even Loki's diplomatic skills were not going to hold back the weight of the rest of the universe forever.

"Maybe one day you'll be called for nothing more than a drink," Gabriel said, "but that's not now, sorry."

"More's the pity," Loki said, lips twitching in amusement.

"Do you want one?" Gabriel asked, jabbing at the bar with a thumb.

Eyeing Gabriel speculatively, as he was behaving just a bit strangely, Loki answered, "Perhaps later."

Shooting the bar a look, Gabriel sighed. "Probably a good idea."

Loki folded his arms, ignoring the entrance of Gadreel, Margaret, and Jarvis. "I am not going to like this, am I?"

"Well, that depends," Margaret said, "but I'd say no. Couldn't you have come earlier?"

"I had an important matter to attend to," Loki repeated. "Now that I am here, perhaps we can get down to business?"

"Short and sweet, then," Gabriel said. "I got blasted by a machine built by Doom and was separated into four. One's called Loki."

Blinking, Loki stared. "You seem to be in one piece."

"Physically, perhaps," Gadreel said. "Mentally is another question."

"He is also physically in four places," Jarvis pointed out.

"Okay, my point is that we could use your help," Gabriel said, apparently uncaring of the fact that Loki was still rather confused as to what had happened.

"I feel a longer explanation is needed," Loki said, keeping the bewilderment he felt out of his voice. "Such as what exactly happened that you were apparently divided into four people, while still being entirely coherent and present. I have known others who were not as fortunate."

"This has happened before?" Margaret held up a hand before Loki could reply. "Never mind. I don't actually want to know. But I assume that means you don't know how to fix it."

"I am afraid not," Loki replied. "An explanation, if you please?"

Gabriel sighed, sitting back down on the sofa. "Okay, so we had gone out to Latveria to take care of Doom. Obviously, it couldn't just go smoothly. Once I got inside I tracked down Doom, who was in a room with this – some sort of machine. Anyway, once Doom noticed I was there, he triggered something and I got hit with whatever the machine did. Now there's four of me running around – although, technically, we're all just different parts of the same person."

"I…see." On second thought, this was nothing like Loki's past experiences. "Could you not just find them on your own?"

"Yeah, if I had any mojo." Gabriel shrugged. "I'm just the part of me that's Tony. I got nada in the magic department."

Loki stared in surprise, belatedly noting that Gabriel – Anthony – was lacking the usual energy that trailed about his person. "So where is Gabriel?"

"We haven't the faintest idea," Margaret told him. "All we've managed to do is get a general idea of where Loki – the other Loki – might be and the Trickster."

"The 'other' Loki?" Loki considered this. "Gabriel did say at one point that he had masqueraded as his universe's version of Loki."

"And now there is a being running free who is purely that Loki," Gadreel said. "It's probably simple now to understand why we asked you to come."

"Because I am Loki as well?" Loki raised one eyebrow skeptically, an expression he had had plenty of time to perfect in the years growing up with Thor. "There is no guarantee of what may have stayed the same between universes. I have no idea if this Loki is anything like me."

"Well, you are the most logical choice in dealing with him," Jarvis said unapologetically.

"I was not disagreeing." Loki glanced at Anthony. "What effects have there been from the separation?"

"Mostly mental," Anthony answered. "The only stuff I remember clearly is from when I was just Tony, and even that's kinda blurry when I was Gabriel, too."

"As far as we can tell," Margaret interrupted Loki before he even began, "the memories were split between the four of them."

"It was done pretty rough, though." Anthony gestured at his head. "It's like a sort of…imprint got left behind. So I've got a fairly good idea of what some of them were. No specifics, though."

"But you remember Gabriel?" Loki asked tersely.

"Yeah, totally," Anthony reassured him. "No worries; you don't have to deal with amnesia-me again."

"I should hope not." Loki had not at all enjoyed interacting with an amnesiac Anthony who had no idea what was what. "What can you tell me of what you know of this Loki?"

"Like I said, no specifics," Anthony said apologetically. "But he's not as bad as the Trickster. That's about all I can give you."

"How tricky," Loki said, gratified when Anthony snorted at his joke. "Will I have to keep an eye out for this Trickster persona of yours as well? Or is it just the other Loki?"

"Leave the Trickster to us," Gadreel said firmly. "We simply felt it was best to have another magic user among us, as Strange is elsewhere."

"He does have a tendency to travel across the realms, yes," Loki agreed. "It is how we met each other initially. But no matter." He waved his hand dismissively. "I shall begin the search for this other Loki."

"I'll give you the information Jarvis and I compiled on where he's been sighted," Margaret said, sharing a look with Jarvis. "He's disguised himself the last we've seen, but the energy signature will remain the same."

"I'm going to go see if Bruce's gotten anything else off the machine," Anthony said, heading for the elevator. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"That's a small list," Margaret muttered, and Loki heard Anthony laugh as the elevator doors shut.

Waiting as Margaret and Jarvis conversed quietly for several minutes, Loki catalogued the weapons and materials he had on his person. Since becoming advisor to the king of Asgard, he made sure to always be prepared for anything. The foresight would serve him well here, as he had no idea what to expect of this other Loki.

This would soon be rather confusing, he reflected. Having two of the same person – even if they were from different universes – generally was.

How Anthony had reacted when Loki had woken him up was still bothering him, though. There was little doubt in his mind as to what Anthony had been dreaming about, as he had personally seen Gadreel carry Gabriel's body after the fact. There was little else that would leave such a scar on the mind.

Gadreel stood off to the side, looking awkward. He did not meet Loki's eyes.

It probably should not have filled Loki with a sort of vindictive pleasure that Gadreel still feared him after what had happened in the other universe. Then again, he had been rather upset with Gadreel's reluctance to act to pull Gabriel from the Cage.

If Gadreel had not agreed, Loki would have come up with something else. No matter Dean's pitiful attempt at threatening him.

But if they had been here with Anthony while he had not, then maybe they held the answers.

"Does he have nightmares often?" Loki asked, drawing the others' attention.

"We do not sleep," Gadreel answered, the words clipped.

"I am aware," Loki said. "He was, however, definitely sleeping when I entered, most likely because he is no longer an angel."

"And he was having a nightmare?" Margaret looked worried, glancing at Gadreel. "What would he be having nightmares about? Something that happened as Tony?"

Gadreel and Jarvis both looked pained, Jarvis even going so far as to look down at the floor to avoid Loki's gaze, his hands clasped behind his back.

"There have been some…incidents," Jarvis admitted slowly, talking to his feet. "He does not like talking about it, not even to me."

"You are his son," Gadreel said softly. "But he has not spoken of it to me either, and I was there."

"You are also his brother," Loki pointed out. He looked at Jarvis, who was studiously examining his shoes. "What incidents?"

Margaret looked equally curious. Perhaps she had not been there for any of them?

"Minor ones," Jarvis answered vaguely, the words leaving his mouth reluctantly. "It is of no consequence."

"It is if he's having nightmares or causing incidents over it," Margaret said sharply. "With the kind of power he wields on a regular basis, that's something to be concerned about. Am I missing out on some kind of family secret? I think I deserve to know what's going on!"

"It is not my story to tell," Jarvis said uncomfortably.

"His emotions are sometimes volatile," Gadreel said, not meeting Jarvis's eyes. "It has resulted in power fluctuations in the tower on several occasions, but they were fixed quickly."

Margaret's brow furrowed. "I was wondering about that. Steve wouldn't tell me anything, and Tony just said it was an issue with the reactor when I asked." She folded her arms across her chest. "But that doesn't answer my question as to why."

"That is a much longer story," Gadreel said. "And it really is not something I should tell you. If you want to know, ask Gabriel when he is able to answer."

Margaret raised an eyebrow, voice frosty as she said, "I think I will."

Loki sensed that it was a good moment to change the topic. "You said you had managed to track this other Loki?" he asked, and Margaret looked at him sharply, as if she'd forgotten he was there in her ire at Gadreel.

Jarvis gestured, bringing up a holographic screen over the table. "The green dots are where his particular energy signature was registered," he told Loki. "Unfortunately, we found some cell phone video that made it clear he no longer looks like himself, which makes tracking him a bit more difficult. But as Peggy"—he looked vaguely pained as he said her name, though Loki had no idea why—"has said, their energy signature should be the same." For some reason, Margaret looked pleased.

"So our first step will be to find this Loki, and then…?" Loki looked to the three of them for an answer.

"Ideally, we manage to get them back together," Margaret said. "But as both the Trickster and Loki seem rather disinclined as to the idea…" She shrugged. "I expect we'll make it up as we go along."

"Our speciality," Jarvis sighed. "Absolutely nothing can go wrong."

"Yes, quite." Margaret smiled broadly.

"Do we have any idea as to how we might rejoin them?" Loki asked, ignoring the banter. "Otherwise it seems like that is a bit of a stretch."

"Tony and Bruce are still running scans on the machine, as is Jarvis," Gadreel said. "We still don't know how the machine even worked, and I have been unable to find anything beyond a trace level of magic."

"That is your answer, then," Loki said dryly. "I can take a look at it later. Perhaps there is something you missed."

"Perhaps." Gadreel seemed doubtful of the possibility.

Refraining from commenting on how infallible angels were not, Loki remembered several occasions when Gabriel had made absolutely horrible mistakes. It was certainly likely that Gadreel had missed something, but Loki would not be the one to point that out.

Gadreel could find out later, if Loki managed to figure out what he had missed.

"Are you absolutely certain there is nothing to know about this Loki?" Loki tried again. Perhaps Gadreel knew something that Anthony had not.

"The only one who would know is Gabriel," Jarvis informed him. "And as he is currently inaccessible – and most likely, in his current position, would not remember – we'll have to discover it for ourselves."

"Lovely," Loki said dryly. "I do so love pulling a Thor."

* * *

"Hey!" Natasha looked up as Peggy poked her head in. "We think we have something on Loki."

"Our Loki, or the other one?" Natasha stood up, seeing James copy the movement out of the corner of her eye.

"Other one," Peggy answered. "JARVIS registered a couple energy flares in the same general area, so we think he's staying there for now. It's a good chance to try and catch up with him."

"And if he knows we're coming?" James asked.

Peggy shrugged. "Hope he thinks we're interesting enough to stick around and wait, I suppose. Are you going?"

"Definitely."

It took only minutes for the pair to find their mission gear. Gadreel was waiting with Loki in the jet – which made sense, since they had virtually no idea who (or rather, what) they were going up against.

"Peggy's not coming?" Natasha asked as the ramp shut behind them, taking the pilot's seat and slipping on the headset.

"I believe it would be unwise to bring too many people," Loki said smoothly. "There is no way to know what this Loki will be like; as such, a smaller team will be easier to work with."

"And you brought the ones most likely to get out of a tough situation unscathed," James observed. "Why not Steve?"

"While the Captain is an excellent fighter, his actions would be driven more by emotion," Loki reminded him. "He is perhaps one of the closest to Anthony; not to slight any of you, but—"

"We are the most capable of distancing this Loki from our image of Gabriel," Gadreel finished for him.

"Exactly." Loki nodded.

"Doesn't bode well for what you think we're going to be facing," James muttered, taking the copilot's seat as Natasha maneuvered the jet into takeoff position. Luckily, they didn't need a huge runway, as Quinjets could literally lift off from a standing position. "How well do you think this is going to go?" he asked her in Russian.

"You know that using Russian's pointless when the other two people in the jet both understand every language?" she replied in kind, glancing over at him.

James scowled.

"You forgot, didn't you?"

"Shut up," he scoffed. "Do I tease you like that?"

"All the time."

"Fair enough." They were occupied after that with getting the Quinjet in the air, but once they were coasting James leaned back in his seat and turned on the autopilot.

"So we're going to Norway."

"Indeed," Loki said, sounding vaguely distracted. A glance over Natasha's shoulder showed that Loki was preoccupied with reading something on a tablet.

"Isn't that where the Norse myths originated?" Natasha asked, head pressing back against the headrest.

"They were so impressionable," Loki said, sounding almost nostalgic. "Unfortunately, a few thunderstorms called out of the blue nowadays simply fails to elicit the same awed response."

"You could just be a mutant," Natasha said, smirking at the face Loki made. Once one got past the fact that Loki could be a bit on the mad side, he was fun to rile up.

"As if," Loki said with great dignity.

"We all know just what the civvies think of mutants," James said. "And aliens."

"Tax-evading illegals," Natasha agreed, nodding.

"The mutants pay taxes."

Natasha tried to picture Magneto filling out tax forms and just couldn't. Judging from James's expression, he was suffering from a similar inability.

"Well, some of the aliens don't," James finally settled on saying. "I'd like to see the IRS try and come after Gadreel."

"I believe Gabriel has that covered," Gadreel said mildly.

Natasha winced slightly at the memory of Tony and Gadreel sitting at the kitchen table while Tony coached Gadreel through filling out tax forms and trying to bring his brother up on modern times. Thankfully Gadreel was a quick study, as no one had wanted to be in the kitchen for fear of overhearing ridiculously mundane facts as to filing taxes. Natasha didn't really want to know why Tony knew so much about it.

"I don't suppose we have a plan beyond going in and hoping for the best?" James asked. "I don't care what Peggy says; that's not a plan."

"Unfortunately, without more data as to this Loki's skills, we cannot formulate one," Loki said. "Fear not, James. You shall be perfectly safe."

James did not look impressed. "Was that even in question?"

"With a facet of Gabriel, one can never be certain."

"Being careful is advisable," Gadreel said, hands folded between his knees. "As is running away and letting us handle him."

James grunted, his left hand curling and uncurling on his thigh. He shared a glance with Natasha, his disagreement written all over his face.

James had always been too headstrong for his own good, something that HYDRA had never been able to wipe out of him. Now that they knew who he had been, it was no longer such a mystery. After all, Bucky Barnes had never been one to back down from a fight if it meant that friends were in danger.

Thankfully neither Gadreel nor Loki seemed to realize just what Natasha and James thought of their plan. Gadreel could read minds – and there had been several strange incidents at the beginning because of that – but he'd stopped ever since Tony had explained how uncomfortable it made humans.

"So, just wandering around until Loki decides to show up," James said faux cheerily. "Good thing I brought my rain coat."

"It won't rain," Gadreel assured him.

"Oh good," Natasha said. "I hate fighting in the rain. The electricity just goes everywhere."

James grinned. "Do you remember that time in the Czech with your hair—"

"James."

"Yeah, okay. Flying."

Natasha kindly didn't remind him that the Quinjet was on autopilot.

* * *

Norway was rather chilly and blustery, but at least it wasn't rainy. Though Natasha hadn't really expected Gadreel to be wrong about that.

They left the Quinjet somewhere quiet before going to take a look at the surrounding area. By habit, Natasha and James remained together, separating slightly from Gadreel and Loki. They remained within sight of the two supernatural beings, but far away enough that they weren't getting in each other's way.

Both of them understood the main language spoken here, although speaking it was a bit of a different issue, neither able to do so fluently.

So they walked around the small town, making note of the obviously religious symbols that had nothing to do with mainstream religion and everything to do with the old Norse gods.

"No wonder he came here," Natasha murmured. "He must be looking for something familiar, which wasn't Tony."

"It's not familiar if you don't remember who you were," James reminded her quietly. "I can't blame him."

Humming slightly under her breath, Natasha tucked her arm through James's, moving closer to his warmth.

After another few minutes of walking after Gadreel and Loki and turning into a smaller street, James said, "What do you think we can expect from him?"

"I know about as much as you do," Natasha said. "Tony's never said much about his past beyond bits and pieces. With colorful characters like the Trickster and Loki, I can't say I'm too surprised."

"At least we're not facing an angel," James said quietly.

"Gabriel's still out there," Natasha pointed out. "Doing who knows what."

"I was trying not to think about that."

"You're welcome." Natasha nudged him cheerfully in the side.

They entered the town square, which was really more of a town circle built around an old church.

The back of Natasha's neck prickled as they walked towards the church, a telltale sign of someone watching her. Catching James doing the same, she casually scanned her surroundings.

Nothing jumped out at her, but there was a sandy-haired man eyeing their group interestedly. There was nothing remarkable about him, and Natasha was about to move on from him when she caught his eye and a slow grin pulled at his lips.

There was something awfully familiar about that smile…

Pulling James along with her, Natasha approached the man, keeping an amiable smile on her face. "Hello," she said, mentally wincing at her accent.

"I speak English," the man said, his own words only lightly accented. "You're new here?"

"Just passing through," Natasha confirmed.

"We don't get many tourists here," the man said, looking between them and Loki and Gadreel on the other side of the square.

"We like seeing things off the beaten track," James said affably, an easy smile flickering across his face. "Less crowds for one thing."

"True, true," the man agreed. "I've been to Stonehenge. Terribly crowded. And expensive."

Natasha hadn't been to Stonehenge except on missions, but she nodded nonetheless.

"What brings you to our humble village?" the man asked, raising an eyebrow and spreading his arms in an expansive gesture to the square. Once more, the gesture struck Natasha as undeniably familiar, right down to the way he folded his arms across his chest, his entire stance casually relaxed…but wary. "There isn't much to see here."

"You have a lovely church," James fibbed, sounding entirely honest. "It's very old."

The man hummed, something flashing through his amber eyes. "It is, but it's called a höll. Built around the thirteenth century. And remodeled through the centuries." His attention went behind Natasha, and his expression shuttered, smile going flat.

"So you are here," Gadreel said quietly, his presence a reassuring weight behind Natasha.

Nothing changed about the man's stance, but the air shifted, some sort of energy radiating off him. "And so are you." His accent was gone, replaced with an American one that Natasha knew very well, having heard it coming from a friend's mouth. "Looks like I didn't hide nearly as well I thought."

"You were good," Natasha said. "We're better."

Amusement flickered across the other Loki's face, followed by a sharp grin. "Well, things have changed. Down to the energies of the place." He looked at their Loki. "How do you manage?"

"I am not quite certain what you mean," Loki answered, his eyes carefully cataloguing the other.

"Christianity. Catholicism. Islam." The other Loki made a disgusted noise. "No one's a decent pagan anymore. Where's a god to get his juice from? And why are you here? Did I give up my job to someone inept sometime within the last so many centuries?"

Loki's face went blank, but there was a tension coiling in his slender frame that had Natasha edging away for her own safety. "You did not."

"Strange." The other Loki rolled his neck. "There's been a distinct lack of chaos here. And Kali's nowhere to be found."

"This is not your world," Gadreel said. "Can you not sense it?"

"Oh, I know." The other Loki's smile was flat. "I'm not an idiot. I don't even have my body anymore, and this one just isn't the same. Magic only goes so far."

"What he means," Loki said, "is that there are no pagans like you in this world."

"Really." The other Loki's voice was mild, but there was an undertone of something flat and ominous. "Where'd you spring from, then?"

"Asgard," Loki replied. "It's quite a few light-years away from a human perspective; I understand why you would not have realized it was there."

The other Loki snorted. "Aliens," he said. "Right. Guess that makes more sense as to how you're still around."

"What's that supposed to mean?" James asked warily. One hand was on his gun, and Natasha saw the other Loki's eyes flick down to it for a second, the ghost of a grin passing over his face, like he thought it was funny that James had brought it.

"You really have no idea what I am, do you?" he asked, amusement clear. "And you thought you could handle me anyways? How naïve."

"What do you—"

"Shut up," the other Loki snapped, cutting Gadreel off before the angel could finish his sentence. "What are you doing here, anyway? This is none of your business."

"As you are a part of Gabriel, I would say it is," Loki reminded his counterpart. None of them expected the latter to burst into laughter – short, sharp noises that sounded more mocking than actually amused.

"I'm a part of an angel?" He laughed. "That's a good one. You can't be an angel and a god. Blasphemy or something like that. Have you ever seen an angel be one?"

"You are." Natasha said.

The grin slid off the other Loki's face. "I thought we just established that I'm not."

Natasha wondered what this Loki had against angels. "Whatever you say, you're still a part of our friend."

"So you're here to convince me to rejoin?" The other Loki laughed again, turning towards the höll. "Good luck with that. Didn't I say earlier I wasn't interested?"

"It doesn't change our desire to see you back together," Gadreel said, following him as the other Loki strode inside.

"I thought I told you to be quiet."

"I do not take orders from you."

"Well, then this is going to go just perfectly."

By now they were all inside the old building, having followed the pair inside. The ceiling arched far above them, high wooden beams carved with intricate curling patterns disappearing into shadow.

Natasha glanced briefly at them, cataloguing her surroundings, and then at James, who looked steadfastly blank, like he was trying not to react to anything.

The other Loki had draped himself over what might have been an altar at the end.

"That seems disrespectful," Loki said, stopping where the floor turned into a set of steps that led up to the altar.

"It's to me," the other Loki said. "Or you. Whichever. Could go either way, but it doesn't matter."

"And what if it is an altar to me?" Loki ascended the steps, standing in front of his counterpart and practically looming over him.

"I don't particularly care if you're insulted," the other Loki replied lazily, looking up at Loki, seemingly not bothered by the height difference as he remained sitting – or lying, rather. "Not my fault I'm in your universe. At a guess, it's Gabriel's fault."

He wasn't wrong, but the way he said Gabriel's name – with something resembling a sneer – rubbed Natasha the wrong way.

"What do you have against Gabriel?" she asked sharply, drawing the blond Loki's attention.

"Do I need a reason?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Does Gabriel have self-esteem issues?" James muttered to her. Natasha got the feeling that the other three heard it, too, judging by the shorter Loki's scowl.

"Why do you care?" he asked roughly, glaring at her. "Your friend is Gabriel, not me. Stick with him."

"If we knew where he was, maybe," Natasha said. "As it is, it kind of sucks having a friend who doesn't remember most of his life."

"Not my problem," the other Loki said casually.

"You've got at least half of the memories he's missing," James pointed out. "I'd say you're definitely involved in this problem."

"So?"

Loki was giving the other Loki a look Natasha had never seen on his face. She got the feeling that they had all underestimated who they were going up against.

"You cannot simply leave another part of yourself like this." Gadreel stepped forward, reaching out as if intending to grab the other Loki's arm.

The blond god vanished before Gadreel could reach him. A crackle and a burst of air on the back of her neck made Natasha spin around, seeing that Loki glaring past her at Gadreel. He looked genuinely contemptful, the lightning-like remains of whatever green energy he'd used to transport himself fading from around his frame.

"Let's make this clear," he said, jabbing a finger at Gadreel. "I couldn't care less what you do, but while you're here you're in my territory, so do me a favor and just act like you're not there or something."

"What do you have against angels?" James asked, looking bewildered.

The other Loki's eyes moved to him, his expression not softening in the least. "I'm a god," he said pointedly. "Gods don't like angels and angels don't like gods; I've never felt particularly inclined to break tradition."

That implied a lot of things about what Gabriel thought of himself, and none of it was good.

"Fine," Natasha said. "We're not going to get anywhere with Gadreel here."

Gadreel shot her a bewildered look, appearing both hurt and angry. "Natasha—"

"You know we're not getting anything done." She gave him a come on look. "Work with me here."

Gadreel sighed, gave the other Loki another angry look, and vanished. Loki relaxed minutely, and the taller one stepped forward.

"I assume you are willing to speak to me."

"You're an alternate-universe me." The shorter Loki crossed his arms. "Whatever you have to say, say it."

"As a guess," Loki began, "I would say you do not remember everything that you know you should remember." The other Loki stiffened, but the first one continued nonetheless. "I doubt that you escaped unaffected while Anthony remembers only his human life."

"Is there a point to this?" the shorter Loki retorted, stance tense and eyes glaring daggers.

"I am just wondering how well you will cope in the modern world," Loki said mildly. "How much do you remember, exactly? Certainly not enough to know about the current technology, with the varied inventions your human self produced."

"We're not the same person," the other Loki snapped.

"I never said you were."

"Why do you want to know how much I remember?" the other Loki demanded.

"Curiosity," Loki said, shrugging. "You have never wanted to know something for no particular reason?"

The other Loki stared at him, eyes narrowed, and then seemed to abruptly make up his mind. "Sometime around the 1400s," he admitted guardedly.

Natasha wasn't sure she'd heard him right at first.

Loki's eyebrows had shot up, but other than that his outward appearance didn't change. "I see," he said delicately, while Natasha was inwardly grateful that she could keep a straight face through pretty much anything.

The 1400s?

That…was a long time ago. Exactly how long had Tony been Loki?

"Bit of a shock, I suppose?" James asked casually, one eyebrow raised.

"No, not at all," the other Loki said acerbically. He gave them only a fraction of his attention, keeping most of his focus on Loki. "It's simply a small matter of rearranging of my whole worldview, trying not to be run over by those strange contraptions you call cars, and – one can't forget this – the lack of proper worship." He scoffed. "I don't know what people are thinking anymore. It was bad enough with the kings and shit, but this?"

That seemed to be an issue with this Loki, who had mentioned it several times since they had engaged him. Natasha couldn't help but wonder why, and this Loki's comments were cryptic enough that she couldn't quite understand.

"If the last you remember is the fifteenth century," Loki said, tone neutral, "then what is your explanation for missing the last six centuries? Time travel?" The suggestion was sarcastic in a way only Loki could make it.

"No," the other Loki huffed, biting the word out. "I'd say it's because of whatever incident caused me to enter your universe. Besides, as much as time travel would be useful, I haven't quite got the hang of entering the temporal stream."

The worst part was that Natasha couldn't tell if he was joking or serious.

"Please don't," James said. "I'm told it's generally not a good idea."

The other Loki shot James a dirty look. "Like I'd listen to you."

Loki appeared outwardly bored, but there was a measure of tension to his frame that made his wariness more apparent. "You must admit that we have a point," he insisted. "You have some awareness of the technology of today, but you say your last memories are of the fifteenth century. How else can you explain such knowledge?"

"Because you claim I was an angel?" The other Loki snorted, sneering again. "Try another story, Loki. There are plenty of explanations that would've been plausible, but you picked the least likely of all of them. Good plan you've got there for trying to convince me."

"There are three other parts of you," Natasha said. "All of whom don't remember their past the way they should. You can't just write that off because you're prejudiced against angels."

"It makes you a bit of a bigoted dick," James added, twitching away from the pinch Natasha gave him.

"Have you met the rest of my kind?" The other Loki's grin was sharp. "We're not big on acceptance. No, I'd say we're more of the 'stab first, question later' variety – especially when it comes to angels. Can't say it doesn't get tiring at times, but at least there's no end of amusement."

Loki inclined his head. "This is true," he admitted. "But—"

"And don't get me started on what happens once Thor gets into it," the other Loki said airily, not noticing or simply ignoring how the rest of them stiffened at the name. "I tell you, I've never met a kid who's got that many issues with frost giants. Ignoring the rest of the Æsir, of course. You still have that problem, I assume?" He turned around, spinning on his heel to face the three of them again.

Loki was standing stiffly. "Yes," he said frostily, the word clipped.

"Oho." The other Loki stopped, eyes fixed on Loki. "Someone's got issues. What, a personal grudge?"

"Something like that."

A smirk spread across the other Loki's face. "Now there's a story there," he said, moving forward and towards Loki with a smooth, predatory grace.

"I prefer not to speak of it," Loki said stiffly, stepping back from his counterpart. The latter kept grinning.

"Come on," he said. "I'm you. Don't you trust me?"

"Forgive me if I am unwilling to share personal details with you."

"I thought the whole point of this was to convince me that I was a part of your old friend?"

"No offense to Gabriel," Loki replied, "But I would not tell him, either."

The other Loki sighed, stepping back a minute amount. "Fine," he said. "Keep your secrets. It's not like I don't have my own." He clapped his hands together. "If that's all, I think it's time for me to be going—"

Loki's hand clamped down on his wrist, his voice as cool as ice as he said, "We are not yet done."

"Oh?" The other Loki's eyes were slitted dangerously, a deadly smile pulling at his mouth. "Too bad. Because I am."

Loki's hand clenched on nothing as the other Loki disappeared in a haze of green sparks, faint laughter trailing after him like the ghost of an echo.

The three stood there for several minutes, staring at the empty space the other Loki had occupied. Within one breath to the next, Gadreel appeared, face set disapprovingly.

"I thought you had this handled," Gadreel said quietly, anger lacing his tone.

"Would you have preferred a fight?" Natasha met his eyes evenly. "Because that's what would've happened. He wasn't going to be reasonable with you here."

"She is right," Loki said, a small frown on his face. "I am surprised at how…volatile he seems to be."

"Because Tony's always so reasonable?" Natasha said dryly. "You haven't seen him when he's angry."

Loki's eyes flickered to her. "I doubt you have either."

After another moment's reflection, Natasha had to admit this was true. She had only ever seen the aftermath of Tony's anger. Pepper had been the only one to have a front row seat to what an angry Tony was really like, and that hadn't been a pleasant experience for anyone.

But even an annoyed Tony was dangerous to be around.

"Fuck," James said, rubbing his face. "What are the chances I can hide somewhere before Steve gives us all his disapproving face?"

"The one with the eyebrows?"

"Yeah, that."

Natasha considered the question. "Not very high."

James's sigh was long-suffering. "That's what I thought."

* * *

 **Review, please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey! Hope you enjoy this one - I know it's been a while. There's a bit of kid fluff at the end, mostly courtesy of inukagome - and as a reminder from them, Samael is gender neutral! Apparently they're planning on making another ficlet about Samael and nir gender identity/etc., so if you're interested in that keep an eye on their profile.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or the Avengers**

* * *

The collective reaction from those who had remained behind was disappointment.

"You couldn't convince him?" Steve sounded dismayed, and James was pointedly avoiding meeting his eyes. No one could remain unaffected by Steve's disappointment in them; he was, unquestionably, the best of all of them at guilt-tripping people.

"So this was pointless," Bruce sighed, rubbing at his face. Natasha had no idea how long he'd been awake, but it had probably been too long.

"Not necessarily," Loki replied. "My counterpart may have been uncooperative, but he provided – whether willingly or not – a wealth of information."

"You mean on pagans and whatnot?" Peggy asked, giving Steve a worried look.

"Yeah, he said a lot about worship," James interjected. "Don't know why that's so important to him, but it seemed like a big thing."

"Perhaps the gods of Gabriel's universe are more different from us than expected," Loki hazarded a guess. "Regardless, I am going to have some questions for Gabriel once we _do_ succeed. My counterpart was far too hostile towards angels for some of it _not_ to have remained."

"What do you mean?" Steve questioned.

"He means that we couldn't get anything substantial done until Gadreel left," Natasha informed him. "Loki – the other one – barely looked at him except to be rude."

" _He's_ an angel." Peggy still looked worried. "Why would a part of him hate them?"

"That is the question, is it not?" Loki asked rhetorically, making them all fall silent.

Steve exhaled slowly, looking up at Loki. "What else do you know?"

Loki's expression was difficult to pin to one emotion. "He confessed that he does not remember anything beyond, and I quote, 'sometime in the 1400's."

"Are you serious?" Clint had walked in at that moment. "You're talking about the other version of Loki, right? The _Middle Ages?"_

"We were surprised as well," Gadreel said, speaking up.

"So, what, he stopped being Loki then?" Bruce asked. "How do we know if it's the Trickster or Gabriel that remembers what happened after that?"

"We don't." Natasha shrugged. "Not unless we summon one of them, and letting the Trickster into the tower is a bad idea."

"What if we summoned Gabriel?" They all turned to Steve, who looked nothing but determined. "He's got to remember us," he said. "He was Gabriel when we all met him for the first time. I don't know where he is or why he's staying away, but—" He looked around for support. "It can't be that bad of an idea, right?"

Gadreel looked doubtful. "He is an archangel," he said. "Whatever feelings he held towards you, most likely it is Tony who possesses them now. There's no telling—"

"He wouldn't do anything to us," Peggy said firmly. "We all _know_ Gabriel – there's not a chance he would have forgotten us."

"That is _not_ what I meant," Gadreel retorted, and then sighed, taking a seat on a nearby stool. "Angels…process emotion very differently than humans. I am saying that he would… _act_ very differently. He will _be_ different. Most likely nothing like the Gabriel any of us knew."

"But he would remember us," Jarvis pressed, and Gadreel reluctantly nodded.

"Yes," he said, "but I would not advise this."

"Because he'd treat us differently?" Bruce questioned. "Just…doesn't seem like much of a reason."

Gadreel glanced at the surface of the table. "If there is one thing I remember for sure," he said quietly, "from Heaven, it was the archangels. I did not know them well – none of us did. But they were fierce. And absolute." He looked up at the silent group. "They are Heaven's most terrifying forces, and _that_ is who you are suggesting that we summon."

There was a pause in the conversation.

"Well," said Steve eventually, "it's not like we haven't done crazier things."

* * *

Gadreel reluctantly went to retrieve the items used in an angelic summoning ritual while the rest of them waited impatiently. Peggy and Steve had remained behind, along with Tony, who had been called up from his lab. The rest of them had retreated downstairs; however much they wanted to do this, Gadreel's warning _had_ had some impact on them.

Tony wasn't sure what to make of the situation. Sure, the angel they were summoning was, technically, him. But the being also _wasn't_ him – they'd just ended up sharing space as the same person, from what he remembered. And from what Bruce had told him.

So he wasn't sure whether to be nervous or not.

It didn't reassure him that everyone else probably was, too.

A fluttering noise behind him made Tony spin around. Gadreel, holding a bowl, had appeared behind the counter. He didn't know _what_ was in it, but Gadreel didn't explain, only moved for a piece of chalk that Tony had brought up by request and started drawing a complicated design on the counter.

The bowl went in the center of the design. It was full of herbs and something else that Tony wasn't going to ask about, and Gadreel's gaze slowly went from it to the other three in the room.

"You're sure you want to do this."

"Of course." Peggy replied.

A match was struck, and dropped.

For a brief second, nothing happened.

Tony stiffened as the Tower rattled minutely. That shouldn't be happening. _He'd_ built the place, you'd need at least a hurricane to make it move like that. The lights were flickering, making the four of them look around warily, and then suddenly there was a figure standing at the end of one of the sofas.

Blinking, Tony found himself looking at – well – himself. But after another few seconds, he realized that the lookalike carried himself differently; like he wasn't used to his own body, though Tony couldn't have explained how he guessed the reason. There was a palpable sense of raw energy crackling around him.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, looking at Gadreel. "I've got to say, brother, you've some nerve, summoning me like this." His tone was flat, and not particularly happy.

Gadreel's expression didn't change. "We needed to talk to you. I did not feel like trawling through the universe trying to find you."

Where Tony might have smiled or made a joke, Gabriel's expression didn't change in the least. "I suppose I can't I blame you," he said in the exact same tone. "What do you want? I've already given you all the information I had on the Trickster."

"I know." Gadreel glanced at Tony. "We attempted to contact Loki."

"I gather that didn't go well." Gabriel didn't sound surprised or even sympathetic. "I won't contact him for you."

"He would not take it well," Gadreel said, "as he took particular issue with my presence. Would you know something of that?"  
"The pagans are volatile by nature," Gabriel said. "We try to keep out of their way, since they have a tendency to test whether any of their weapons work on us. It hasn't won them any favor with Michael."

"And yet you went and joined them," Peggy pointed out, heedless of the warning glare Gadreel shot her way.

Gabriel's eyes hardened. "Yes." The word was clipped. "I suppose I did. I'm having trouble understanding just why."

"Your memories lie with the others," Gadreel reminded the older angel. "If you want answers, then my only suggestion would be that you seek them out."

Something else flashed across Gabriel's face, too dark for Tony to recognize, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. "I have no reason to. As far as I can determine, they don't have any more desire to rejoin than I do. Persuading them would be a waste of effort."

"Did you think about what _I_ want?" Tony asked, drawing Gabriel's attention. It was absolutely bizarre having the other's attention, as it was like looking into a mirror, only in reverse.

"What do you want?" Gabriel sounded as if he was humoring him like he would a child.

"Well, for one thing, I would really like to fill in the gaps of what I'm missing. For another, I've watched enough sci-fi shows to know that anytime a person is split into two or more, things go _really_ badly." That episode of _Star Trek_ had been a favorite rewatch for Tony, if only because of Shatner's truly memorable acting. But judging from Gabriel's lack of comprehension, he didn't understand.

"We are separate," Gabriel said, head tilted and squinting slightly at Tony, "even if we were once one being. There have been no negative effects as far as I can ascertain, so there isn't any reason for a rejoining to be attempted. It would be inadvisable in any case," he added in a quieter tone.

"What do you mean?" Gadreel asked.

"You should know, brother." Gabriel's smile was kind, if patronizing. "What would Father say?"

There was a sharp inhale from Steve's direction, though the only sign of Gadreel's surprise was his shoulders stiffening. "I believe He would say the decision is up to you."

Gabriel's head tilted again, his eyes piercing as he looked through Gadreel. "Is that what you said to yourself when you let Lucifer past?"

Although Tony didn't know just what Gabriel meant by that, it was clear from the way that Gadreel tensed and his face whitened that the other angel had hit a sore spot. Even Steve looked utterly aghast, although Peggy seemed like she was puzzling something out.

"I won't help with what you need," Gabriel continued when it became clear that Gadreel wouldn't speak. "But I also won't interfere. It's none of my business, and I don't want it to be. And, brother…" His smile was flat, the smell of something burning filling the air. "Don't summon me again."

Within the blink of an eye, Gabriel was gone.

Inhaling slowly, Tony turned away from the spot where Gabriel had been standing, facing the others. "Well," he said neutrally, "I think that was terrifically enlightening. Let's not do that again anytime soon."

Steve looked a bit like someone had hit him over the head with a sledgehammer. "That…wasn't what I expected."

Gadreel had closed his eyes. "I did." The words were quiet, but there was a hint of sadness about them. Opening his eyes, he looked back at Steve. "That was Gabriel as he once was."

"And as he is again," Peggy said, looking shaken. "I suppose it's clear we won't be getting any help on that front, though at least he won't be interfering."

"Is it possible we can persuade him?" Steve asked desperately.

"With what? Any methods of persuasion that I can devise would likely leave us all dead." Gadreel shook his head. "And words only go so far."

A snort escaped Tony before he could stop it. "Why? Because he's the _Messenger_? Shouldn't that make it easier?"

Shaking his head yet again, and only making Tony more annoyed, Gadreel rubbed his hand over one of the lines of the circle he had drawn out earlier. He was giving Tony a strange look. "Perhaps we can try again at a different point," he said, looking down at the floor. "For now, I think it is best we try a different approach."

"Like what? There's no one left to talk to but the Trickster." Steve sighed, slumping in his chair.

"Well," Gadreel began, "there is always the option of figuring out _how_ to rejoin the four of them. It would make our task easier if we had a goal."

"Instead of just talking to them and hoping for the best?" Peggy sounded amused.

"Bruce and I haven't got much of anything on the machine," Tony admitted grudgingly. "The most JARVIS can get are energy readings that say magic was involved. What I know is how the machine was put together and how it can be broken apart, but I'm no magic expert." Nor did he _want_ to be, even if he knew that he had at one point been one. "Gadreel, would you _please_ stop staring at me like that?"

All three of them looked at Gadreel, who hurriedly rearranged his features into a more neutral expression.

"What?" Peggy asked.

"It may be nothing…" Gadreel hesitated. "I never said that Gabriel was the Messenger."

There was silence for a minute as everyone's eyes switched back to Tony, who stared blankly back for a moment before clearing his throat and pointedly looked away. "We were talking about the machine?" he reminded them.

"Maybe we should just be focusing on how to rejoin you," Steve suggested, looking a bit more hopeful than he had a moment ago.

"Oh, sure." Tony rolled his eyes. "Let's go right ahead and do that _without_ knowing how it was done in the first place. That's like trying to untie your shoes without knowing how a knot's done in the first place. At best you manage to figure it out; at worst you get an even bigger knot." He expanded his hands. "Now multiply that analogy by about a million and you have this machine. Getting it right would be great, but getting it wrong?"

"Let's not chance that," Peggy said, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder. "I don't think we can do with more of you."

"Aw, Auntie…" Tony put his hand to his chest, affecting a hurt look. "And here I thought you loved me."

"Oh, I do," Peggy said dryly. "But I'd rather not deal with the wreckage that would ensue from having more than one of you in the same universe."

"There are four of him at the moment," Gadreel pointed out after a moment's pause.

"Yes, but they're not two _Tonys_ ," Peggy said. "And trust me, one is more than enough."

"I did run calculations at one point," JARVIS spoke up. "My predictions suggested that half of the eastern seaboard would be in danger if there were ever more than one Tony Stark."

Gadreel tilted his head back. "What of two Gabriels?" he inquired curiously.

There was a short pause. Then, "My calculations suggest that our galaxy would be in risk of imploding if that were the case."

"Okay, I get it." Steve's shoulders were tense. "No trying to reverse it until we figure out how it happened in the first place, not unless we want to risk the universe imploding."

"The galaxy, Captain," JARVIS corrected.

"Which makes it _so_ much better."

"I don't know," Tony said thoughtfully. "There's a distinct difference between the galaxy and the universe, if only because the universe can soldier on with one less galaxy, but the universe is the _universe_ , so if that were gone, then we'd all be gone—"

Steve had his face in his hands now, his shoulders shaking. "I think I get the picture." His voice was muffled, but that couldn't hide his laughter.

Tony was probably far too pleased with himself for having been able to cheer up Steve. Clapping his hands together, he said brightly, "Back to work, then! That machine isn't going to solve itself."

"It would be quite something if it did," Peggy said, eyes dancing with amusement. "In fact, I would almost say it would be... _magical_."

Tony stared at her. "I don't know you," he declared.

Then, turning on his heel, Tony left.

If none of his other – more magical – selves would help him, then he'd just do all the work himself. It wasn't the first time he had beaten the odds.

* * *

Bruce was still in the room with the machine when Tony entered, looking up at the swish of the automated doors. "How'd it go?"

"Horribly." Tony stepped onto the catwalk, bringing up the data they'd already collected from the tablet he'd grabbed on the way down. "We decided it would be a better idea just to try and figure out how this thing works."

"Oh." Bruce paused, taking a few steps closer to Tony. "What did Gabriel say?"

"In a nutshell?" Tony glanced at Bruce. "He's not interested in helping or getting involved in any way. Maybe he was just pissy because we yanked him away from something important or whatever."

"…Right." Bruce drew his glasses out of his pocket and put them on. "Uh, as far as I can tell, the machine doesn't have any sort of engine. That I can see, at least. There's a bunch of energy routers and something that's probably magical, so I didn't mess with it, but I can't find a power source."

"Really?" Tony swung himself over the railing of the catwalk and dropped under the machine, whistling at the bent and broken pieces. Some of them were even scorched. "Wow. Something did a number on this."

"Yeah. If I could _find_ the power source, I'd say it exploded. Maybe it was incompatible or something." Bruce leaned over, looking down at him. "I've already been down there."

"Well, it is _not_ pleasant." Tony ducked under a dangling tube with several frayed wires poking out of the end. "Huh. You're right. None of this looks like an engine."

"I can't figure out why he wouldn't include one, unless Doom wasn't done. You don't remember what he was doing when you walked in, do you?" Bruce called down.

"Nope. Sorry." The memories of whatever had happened directly before he'd been separated were as blurry as the rest of the ones about anything that had happened while he was Gabriel. Tony wrinkled his nose at the idea that he'd ever been like the being that had showed up in the Tower.

"Okay, well, if you've got any ideas…" Bruce trailed off, moving to look through the tablet Tony had left on the catwalk.

"Nothing so far." Tony poked at a couple contraptions that looked like they'd been welded together. "There wasn't an explosion," he muttered.

"Sorry?" Bruce's footsteps tapped over his head.

"There wasn't an explosion," Tony said, louder. "I know _that_ much. Someone would have mentioned it. Right? Besides, the room itself would have been damaged and not just the machine."

"What are you saying?" Bruce must have kneeled down, because his voice was louder.

"Whatever power source Doom used must have backfired in some way." Tony shoved his way closer to the core of the machine.

"Tony, what are you doing?"

"I just need to see—" Tony stopped as he found himself in front of what, once upon a time, might have been a central control…thing. It was difficult to tell, since it was melted beyond all recognition. "Whoa."

"What?"

"I think I found the center of whatever blast destroyed this thing." Tony scrutinized it, careful not to touch anything. "JARVIS, can you pick up anything off this area?"

"Only a slightly stronger trace of the same energy that appears to have permeated the rest of the machine," JARVIS said. "I am attempting to find a match."

There was a moment of silence, and then Bruce said, "Oh my _God."_

"What?" Tony crawled his way out of the mess, pulling himself up by the railing of the catwalk and seeing Bruce staring, shocked, at a mess of holograms. He couldn't read it backwards as he was too far away.

"Tony," Bruce said, looking up at him. "This energy—"

"I have found a match," JARVIS said. "From the trace amounts of energy remaining, it bears an undeniable similarity to Gabriel's Grace."

Tony stared back. "You're serious?" _Gabriel_ had broken the machine?

"Very, sir," JARVIS replied.

"This doesn't make sense," Bruce said. "Why would Gabriel have broken it?"

"It had to have been after we separated," Tony mused. "Maybe he panicked."

Bruce looked doubtful. "You're the one who talked to him. Did he seem like the type to panic?"

"Not really." Tony blew out a breath, shaking his head. "He said he didn't want to interfere. Maybe it wasn't on purpose?"

"Since when do angels do anything that _isn't_ on purpose?" Bruce asked skeptically.

"I know, but I _did_ finish talking to him. He made it pretty clear that he wasn't interested in anything to do with us. There's no motive for him to break this." Tony got up, walking over to stand next to Bruce. "So it was either an accident, or we're not thinking of something."

"I'm going to go ahead and say we're missing something." Bruce glanced down at the machine. "Unless you remember something that would explain how an archangel could go out of control."

For a minute, Tony thought he did.

There was a flicker of something at the edge of his awareness – something that held the explanation, but it was something dark and cold that his mind _did  
not want to remember _and—

Tony blinked as Bruce waved his hand in front of his face.

"You just zoned out. Yes or no?"

"No," Tony said. "No, I – I don't know why."

Bruce gave him a look that clearly said he didn't entirely believe Tony, but he let the subject drop. "Any ideas on something we might be missing, then?"

"At the moment, no." Tony peered at the analysis JARVIS had done of the energy – Grace – he'd found, rubbing a hand over his face. "Is there coffee anywhere down here?"

"How long have you been awake?"

"I dunno." It hadn't been _that_ long.

"You still have to sleep, you know." Bruce sounded amused.

"I _know."_ Tony rolled his eyes. "Let me brainstorm down here a little longer."

He could hear Bruce sighing. "Fine. Just don't wait until you pass out."

"Shall I call Loki down, in case he is able to help with the magical aspect of things?" JARVIS suggested. "He is currently in the middle of what appears to be a poker game with Agent Barton."

"Of course he is," Bruce sighed. "That would be great, JARVIS, thanks."

"It is no problem, Doctor Banner."

"Bruce."

"Whatever you say, Doctor."

* * *

Tony did eventually drop off over his tablet, but Loki simply helped move him to the previously unused cot in a corner of the room. Bruce, having been awake for far less time than Tony, kept working with him.

"I might have noticed it was Grace if you had called me down earlier," Loki was still grumbling.

"You didn't ask to see it," Bruce replied. "I would have brought you down if you'd asked earlier."

"My point is that the energy is so faded as to be of almost no use at all." Loki was examining the underside of the machine the same way Tony had earlier, by crawling down under it. It was a rather strange sight, as Bruce had never seen Loki bother to dirty his hands in such a way. "There are only trace remains."

"Can you do anything with that?" Bruce asked.

"Only ascertain who they are from, which JARVIS has already done." Loki's voice was muffled by the layer of metal, glass, and piping in between him and Bruce. "And the fact that it was clearly Gabriel who broke this contraption, whether intentionally or not."

"Which we also guessed." Bruce sighed. Things weren't looking any better than they had _before_ they'd discovered what broke the machine.

"I can provide an alternate look into things," Loki called up.

"Well, what do you think?"

"Gabriel had no reason to want to break this," Loki said, repeating Tony's opinion. "Considering it most likely broke directly after – well, breaking _him_ – I doubt he remembered enough to realize what it had done."

"Revenge sounds more like the Trickster's thing, anyway," Bruce reflected. "So it was an accident? Sounds a little unlikely." More like a _lot_ unlikely. Gabriel was an archangel, for crying out loud. What could possibly make him lose control?

He voiced the question to Loki, who was silent for several moments.

"Loki?" Bruce called when the silence began to drag on.

"I am still here," Loki said quietly.

"What was that all about?"

Bruce could just barely hear Loki's sigh. "I have an idea," Loki said, sounding reluctant, "but it is not pleasant. Nor is it my story to tell," he added, as if he could tell that there was a follow-up question nagging at Bruce. "You will have to ask Gabriel once we succeed, if he is willing to share."

Bruce closed his mouth, curiosity burning at him. What could Loki know about Gabriel?

"Most likely it is what he was having nightmares over," Loki was muttering, and Bruce probably hadn't been meant to overhear, but he looked down sharply and the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Tony's been having nightmares?"

There was another pause, almost as if Loki was kicking himself. "He was when I arrived," he said, the words leaving his mouth reluctantly.

Bruce cast a glance at Tony, curled up on the cot, and then stood up. Tony was curled up _really_ tightly, which was weird, especially as he'd been all sprawled out when they moved him over there in the first place. "Crap."

"What is it now?" The words were annoyed, and there was a clattering noise as Loki wiggled his way out from under the machine, popping up with some grime smeared over his face. "Ah." He had evidently just seen what Bruce had.

Making his way over to Tony, Bruce hovered by the cot, not quite sure what to do.

A green haze settled briefly over Tony, disappearing in a few seconds.

"His vitals are mostly normal," Loki said quietly from behind Bruce.

"Mostly?"

"His heart rate," Loki answered simply.

Which meant nightmares. Bruce really didn't want to wake Tony, since he needed his sleep, but having nightmares was by no means restful.

There was a sharp inhale from Tony, and his knuckles whitened where he was gripping his legs to his chest. A full-body shiver wracked his frame, almost like he was _cold_.

Loki let out a low hiss. "Enough of this." He reached out to shake Tony's shoulder.

Tony jerked awake the moment Loki touched him, flinching violently away with wild eyes. Not moving, Loki's hand hovered in the air, looking utterly harmless (though Bruce knew full well just what Loki was capable of).

Bruce stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do. He was aware that Tony's breaths were coming in harsh pants, that Loki had just woken him up from a brutal nightmare, and that he was missing whatever would let him make sense of all this.

Not for the first time since this mess had started, Bruce wished for the stabilizing presence of Tony as he usually was. Even Gadreel would be a comfort, regardless of how inhuman he could still be.

"Fuuck," Tony exhaled, head dropping back to rest against the pillow and the rest of his body relaxing, so that he was once more draped over the bed.

"Bad dreams?" Loki asked mildly, pulling his hand back and straightening up.

Sighing again, Tony pinched his nose. "You could say that."

Bruce really wanted to ask what Tony had been dreaming about, but that wasn't something he felt comfortable doing. There were any number of things that could be giving Tony nightmares, and he was a private man despite what the paparazzi and the public thought of him. Bruce had only known him for so long; it wasn't really his place to pry.

Loki didn't seem to share his qualms. "Do you remember what about?"

A frown flickered over Tony's face, followed by a grimace and another full-body shiver. His breath hitched slightly in his throat, sounding faintly like a whine. "...No." It came out as barely a whisper. He covered his face with a hand, repeating in a louder voice, "No."

He wasn't quite telling the truth, but Bruce didn't know why he would lie about this. They all had nightmares, some worse than others, and he had found company with Tony more than once, spending the twilight hours with a friend who understood.

But, of course, Tony wouldn't remember that, Bruce reminded himself. And that wasn't _really_ his fault. It was Doom's machine that had caused it, even if Tony had somehow been responsible for its destruction in the first place.

"I see." Loki didn't seem to believe Tony, but he clearly wasn't willing to press the issue. That he shot a glance at Bruce was telling as to why he didn't want to.

Sitting up, Tony rubbed his face. "How long was I asleep?"  
"An hour?" Bruce checked his watch. "And thirty minutes."

Groaning, Tony got up, kicking the blanket away from his legs. "Back to work, then. Figure anything out?"

Bruce bit back the instinctive response to tell Tony to go back and _sleep_ , instead saying, "We apparently waited too long."

"There is no ' _apparently'_ about it," Loki said, huffing. "You did, and now I will have to make do with the scraps. It will take me a while to learn anything about this machine, given that Gabriel completely annihilated its inner workings."

"Sorry?" Tony offered, not sounding very apologetic at all.

"No matter." Loki waved a dismissive hand, turning to face the machine. "It will work itself out."

Bruce watched after him warily, not used to Loki sounding so positive.

"You sound cheery," Tony said, snatching the tablet out of Bruce's hands to see what they had managed to find.

Loki looked up from where he was casting some sort of spell on the machine, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I find that after facing down the end of the world, dealing with a friend's identity crisis is of little consequence. One way or another, it will be managed. Even if I have to drag Gabriel down myself to do so," he added pleasantly, shooting the ceiling a dark look.

Sharing a perturbed glance with Tony, Bruce resolved to keep an eye on Loki. It wouldn't do to have a morally ambiguous Norse god running around and threatening archangels.

* * *

Later that morning, Tony found himself in the kitchen stifling an enormous yawn. The lack of sleep over the last few days was catching up with him, but he couldn't quite bring himself to try again.

That dark, cold place beckoned to him everytime he even so much looked at a flat, soft surface, and Tony just couldn't do it.

Rubbing his throat absentmindedly, Tony waited for his coffee to finish brewing, contemplating the color of the granite counters. They looked utterly normal, so he proceeded to look at the fridge, finding his attention caught by the colorful pictures stuck to the magnetic surface.

He could pick out Sam's handiwork instantly, as nir work was still clumsier than his other kids'. It was also extraordinarily colorful, a clear sign of how ne saw the world.

The coffee finished brewing while Tony inspected the drawings, and he quickly poured himself a cup, blowing on it to make it cool faster.

"You haven't slept," said Jarvis's voice from behind him.

"I'll sleep later," Tony said, taking a sip of what was basically pure caffeine. "We've got things to do."

"Which will not be finished unless you rest," Jarvis pointed out.

Turning to Jarvis, Tony gave him a small smile. "I'll sleep, J."

There was a worried frown on Jarvis's face. "Are you…having nightmares?" he asked tentatively, voice quiet.

Feeling his smile slip off his face, Tony's eyes dropped to the brown liquid in his cup. Leaning back against the countertop, he couldn't stop the weariness from slipping into his voice as he said, "Is it that obvious?"

"Not as such, no." Jarvis stepped closer to him, one hand coming to rest on the countertop next to Tony. "But you forget I know you." His head tilted slightly. "And that this is not the first one you have had since this began."

"Right," Tony muttered, looking away. He couldn't forget that first time Loki had woken him up.

What bugged him wasn't really the nightmare (though that was bad enough in itself), but rather the fact that he didn't know what it was that so terrified and pained him. It had to be from that time that he was actually in one piece, but when?

Maybe it was in that other universe, the one with angels and demons. Tony remembered that pretty well, but it once again went blurry halfway through after he was dying thanks to a vicious demon.

"You don't remember, do you?" Jarvis asked, voice so quiet Tony almost missed it.

Jarvis knew, Tony realized, glancing at his second youngest. As did Loki.

"Not really," he admitted slowly, taking another sip of his coffee. He didn't elaborate, not wanting to push further into that abyss of cold-and-pain that hovered at the edges of his memory.

Nodding, Jarvis brushed a hand against Tony's arm, almost as if reassuring him. "They will be here momentarily," he said after a moment.

Tony didn't need to ask who, as he could hear the pitter-pattering of small feet running as they approached the kitchen.

Sam barrelled in, cheeks rosy and eyes bright, beelining instantly for Tony's legs, clutching at them.

"Morning," Tony said, not thinking anything of it as he reached down to pick nem up.

"I'm a boy," Sam announced.

"Sure thing," Tony told him. "Nice shirt."

Sam beamed up at him, the Iron Man on his shirt winking through a wrinkle in the fabric. "Uncle Clint bought it!"

"I must say," Jarvis whispered to Tony, "I am relieved that you remember this much."

Stroking his fingers through Sam's hair, Tony didn't say that he didn't so much remember as know what to do. It was a bit of a sixth sense, as he couldn't really remember having a conversation with Sam about gender and sex, but he knew that it had happened at one point, and that it had been instigated by Sam.

"Clint has good fashion sense," Tony told Sam. "Remind me to get him one, too." It would serve Clint right for getting a shirt that had a chibi Iron Man advertising a particularly sugary cereal to the masses.

Grinning toothily up at him, Sam nodded. "There's one of Hawkeye, too," he whispered conspiratorially.

"Oh?" Tony grinned back down at Sam. "Should I get him that one, then?"

"It's pink," Sam said, snickering. "They got his color wrong!"

"Sounds about par for the course," Tony said, straightening out a few wrinkles in Sam's shirt.

Predictably, Sam wrinkled it again, wriggling around in Tony's arms until he was looking at Jarvis. "Pancakes?" he asked hopefully.

"Dummy has corrupted you," Jarvis said, sighing, but he sounded too fond for it to be reprimanding.

"I haven't," Dummy objected from the doorway. "Pancakes are great!"

"I like them with maple syrup," Butterfingers added, finishing off her braid with a hair tie that had some sort of plastic butterfly on it.

"I like nutella," Sam said. "Lots of nutella."

"I suppose it's a good thing you don't get cavities," Tony said, snorting as Jarvis shot him a look. "What? Don't tell me you'd want to deal with dentists."

"I've read they're painful," Dummy said, nodding. "And put metal braces in your mouth."

You shook his head, eyes flickering to Tony as he said in English, "They've graduated to Invisalign. You can't see them."

"They're still painful," Dummy insisted. "They stick things in your mouth."

"Humans do it all the time," Butterfingers pointed out. "It can't be that bad."

Dummy and You fixed her with rather horrified looks.

"Humans go to the bathroom all the time," Sam said, head tilted in thought. "It's awfully messy."

"This is a really weird conversation," Clint said, his bewildered face poking around the doorframe. Tony could see the two kittens sneaking in past him, moving to twine around You's feet and whine up at him, probably asking for food. "And I don't think I like it. Are you saying you don't go to the bathroom? Ever?"

"We're not human," Butterfingers said reasonably.

"But you eat!"

"It's converted into energy, which we use to keep our energy levels up. There's nothing wasted," You explained easily, stepping over the cats and hoisting himself onto one of the stools at the counter. "I thought you knew that."

"Oh, sure." Clint looked rather out of his depth. "And sleep?"

"Even computers need to shut off."

"I see," Clint said weakly. "I'm…going to go off and reevaluate my entire worldview."

"We're artificial intelligences," Dummy informed Clint. "You knew that."

"Yeah, see, I just thought it meant you learned things really quickly and could hop from body to body."

"We can also do this!" Sam said eagerly, gesturing to the microwave and turning it on.

"You can," Dummy said, pouting. "I need to be touching it."

"And J can do everything," Sam said proudly, beaming up at a rather embarrassed looking Jarvis.

"Well, not quite," Jarvis murmured, blinking. The microwave turned off with a ding! He seemed rather forlorn all of a sudden, looking sadly at Tony.

This reminded Tony of the fact that he wasn't rather in the best straits at the moment (divided into four and all), and that Jarvis must be upset that he couldn't figure out what had happened to the machine, even though the destruction was magical in origin.

"So, pancakes!" Tony said brightly, abruptly standing and making Sam laugh in surprise at the unexpected movement.. "Who wants them?"

Four eager heads nodded excitedly, and Clint slinked off, presumably to reorder his worldview in light of this new information.

Tony hoped he wouldn't think too hard on it. He thought it was rather simple to understand.

Not like that damn machine in his workshop that was their solution to figuring out how to pull him back together.

He really hated magic.

* * *

 **Review, please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**And here's chapter four! I hope you guys appreciate it, since as far as I can tell only about three people are reading this. Which makes sense, since most of this 'verse isn't on my page.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Avengers.**

* * *

"We've got a problem."

"Can it wait?" Tony looked over at Clint, who was in the doorway again. "I thought you were off contemplating your life choices."

"Ha, ha. More like wondering about yours." Clint walked over, letting what he was holding – a newspaper – smack onto the counter.

"That's probably a bad idea. There's still syrup everywhere." Tony surveyed the newspaper with a raised eyebrow. "We still get the newspaper?"

"I think Steve subscribes. But that's not my point." Clint gestured like he was waving the idea out of the air, and then stabbed his finger at a smaller article. The paper had been turned to an inside page. "Look at this."

Tony looked. "Some guy bites it. So?"

"So, he's like thirty and there's no cause of death listed."

"Is that unusual?"

Clint huffed. "If the cause of death is unnatural? Yeah, pretty weird."

"How do you know so much about obituaries?" Tony asked, leaning back in his chair.

"I had to go through tons of them once looking for a mark who faked his death," Clint replied. "Point is, I managed to get the case file for the case."

"Yeah?"

Clint let a packet fall on top of the newspaper. Tony picked it up, flipping through.

"He died in a car crash in his _house_?" Talk about weird.

"Yeah," Clint said. "Body was found in his bed, showing every sign of being hit by a car."

Tony stared. "That's weird."

"You know what's weirder?" Clint didn't wait for Tony to answer him before continuing. "The guy was a suspect in at least five unsolved hit-and-runs."

Tony got a sinking feeling. "You think it's the Trickster."

"No _duh."_ Clint scoffed, and then his expression softened. "Look, I get that he's you, but…he doesn't really seem like that nice of a guy."

"I'm not taking offense." Tony placed the packet down gingerly. The idea that he'd ever do something like that was a little unsettling. "What did you want to do?"

"We should probably see if the Trickster's still in that area." Clint said. "I know you and Bruce are busy with that machine, but if we could take the rest of the team—"

"Just to get an idea of what the Trickster's gonna say?" Tony guessed.

"Something like that."

Tony shrugged. "Can't say it's a good idea, but it's not the worst one."

"You're being really motivational," Clint said dryly.

"I try."

Shaking his head, Clint said offhandedly, "Well, if we all get turned into statues and dumped into the middle of Times Square, you know who to blame."

"He's not going to repeat the same trick," Tony said, twitching as Clint fixed him with that same look Gadreel had given him after speaking to Gabriel. "It's boring and unoriginal, unless he's feeling lazy."

"Let's hope he's not feeling lazy, then," Clint said, leaning back to straighten up. "And isn't inclined to run away."

"No," Tony said, looking back at the newspaper. "That's one thing you won't have to worry about."

But it was that very characteristic that made the Trickster so dangerous.

* * *

"I know it seems appealing, but glaring at the tablet isn't going to help." Peggy's hands came to rest on Steve's shoulders, and there was a soft pressure against his hair as she pressed her lips to his head.

"I wasn't glaring," Steve objected. Then, sighing, he hung his head, closing his eyes. The scientific data that Tony and Bruce had compiled on the machine was mostly babble to him anyway, regardless of how much science he had learned. "I'm not going to be able to help anyway."

Peggy's hand squeezed the nape of Steve's neck. "Maybe not in that way. But you have other strengths."

"Punching things?"

"Don't be ridiculous." She tapped the back of his head in reprimand. "You're a tactician, Steve. Use that brain to figure something out. We're down Loki and Gabriel, and we just have the Trickster left. If none of them are willing to help, then we'll need an alternative route to persuade them that it's in their best interests to do so."

Which wasn't very likely, as Steve knew from experience just how _stubborn_ Tony could be. That wasn't going to have changed even with him split into four.

"I suppose," Steve said instead, tilting his head back to give Peggy a smile.

Smiling back, Peggy reached down to take the tablet. "Give it here, then."

Steve let her have it, giving the thing one last glare.

Putting the tablet aside on the table besides the couch, Peggy went to sit by him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and letting him lean into her side."It's going to be all right," she said quietly. "We've both been through worse."

Steve swallowed dryly, remembering just _how_ much worse it could have been, and so very grateful that the worst hadn't happened that time after all. He just wanted it to not be Tony. "Yeah," he managed.

They fell into a tense silence, Steve too worried to relax into Peggy's hold. Tony _seemed_ perfectly fine, but he was also human and missing a large part of his memories. That he knew who they all were was only one thing Steve was thankful for.

Sighing softly, Peggy stroked her fingers through Steve's hair, gently scratching her nails against his scalp. "I know this isn't easy," she said quietly. "It's never easy when someone you love changes so drastically."

Steve couldn't stop himself from stiffening slightly at the mention of the word "love." It wasn't something he and Peggy had really talked about, as there had been no possibility of anything happening. And Steve had tried to tamp it down, but Tony just made it so _difficult_.

When Peggy didn't immediately continue, Steve worked past his dry throat to ask, "You know?"

"You look at him the same way you look at me," Peggy said softly. "You have since the first time I saw you again."

"You don't…mind?"

"You can love more than one person," Peggy said, still stroking fingers through his hair. "I still love Gabe. And Angie. That you love Tony doesn't change things."

"He's still alive," Steve said, hating himself for it.

Peggy didn't stiffen, but there was a sharp inhalation. "He gives you something I can't. I've been alive long enough to know that there are some things more important in life than others, and love is one of them. Besides," she continued calmly, "Tony and I already had a little chat about this."

Steve glanced at her, suspicious. "You did?"

"It's all been sorted out." Peggy pecked his cheek. "So don't worry so much about it."

Steve narrowed his eyes. "What did you sort out?"

"You can ask Tony when he's sorted himself out," Peggy said, a small smile curving her lips.

The thought of asking Tony about something like this after the last conversation they'd had about it sent a kernel of anxiety through him.

"Are your clothes on?" Bucky asked from outside the room, saving Steve from having to answer. "I'm not coming in unless you're clothed."

"We're clothed, Bucky," Steve said, resolutely not thinking about the time that they _hadn't_ been clothed and Bucky had barged in, only to run straight back out proclaiming something about bleach for his eyeballs.

Bucky slowly slid into the room, evidently wary. Once he saw they were indeed clothed, he relaxed and leaned back against the doorframe. "Clint has news," he said. "We think it's the Trickster."

"I'm going this time," Steve said immediately.

"Yeah, join the club," Bucky said. "Gadreel's still sour about being sent away last time."

"It was the right decision," Peggy said.

"He knows that," Bucky said, shrugging. "But it still smarts. I know what it's like."

"Any idea what we're looking at?" Steve asked, pulling away from Peggy to focus on the task at hand.

"Some guy that was run over by a car in his bed," Bucky said nonsensically.

Steve blinked, confused. "What?"

"Yeah, I know, but it kinda fits what Gadreel told us about the Trickster's method. JARVIS is sweeping the city for any energy signatures that we might've missed, but for now we're just going to wait." Bucky shrugged again. "Just wanted to keep you updated."

"We're going out next time something happens," Steve said. "We can't risk more deaths."

Bucky's smile was wry. "I don't think that's up to us, Steve."

"We can do this," Steve insisted.

Peggy's hand closed down on his wrist, giving him a comforting squeeze, while Bucky's answer was a soft, "Sure, Steve."

They could figure this out. They had to.

* * *

The expression of the cop manning the counter at the police station – which was, in Bucky's words, in the middle of fucking nowhere – would have been funny if the mission hadn't been so serious.

Steve knew he was easily recognizable, even without his suit. Not that they had come unprepared, but wearing it just to get information would be unnecessary. Peggy and Gadreel had waited in the car they'd taken, since they were two members whose presence with the more popularly-known Avengers would just raise questions.

"I heard you had an odd death a few days ago," he said, and the cop made a sort of muffled noise before clearing her throat.

"Um, yes? I think so?" she managed. "You're talking about the McCallum murder, right?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Clint spoke up. "We wanted to know if you had any additional information on it. Anything that might not have been included in the report?"

"It was classified as a murder," the woman clarified. "Someone probably broke in."

"Probably?" That was enough to raise Steve's eyebrows. "You don't know for sure?"

"Well—" The cop hesitated. "There wasn't any _sign_ of a break in, but it's not like the guy actually got run over."

"Of course," Steve agreed, while remembering how there had – apparently – been tire tracks on the floor. "But we'd still like to know if there was anything that wasn't in the report."

She paused, worrying her lip between her teeth and glancing between the four team members; Natasha and Loki, while also not in combat uniform, had a certain intimidating look to them. "There's the autopsy report," she said slowly. "I think I can get that for you."

"That would be great." Steve smiled at her.

"Just for McCallum, right?" the woman asked, as if making sure.

"Yes?" Steve wasn't sure why she'd asked, but… "Why?"

"I thought you might want something on the other odd case? We thought they might be connected, but I wasn't so sure until you turned up…" She trailed off, most likely noticing how shocked Steve looked. "Are you all right?"

* * *

"So there were two of them." Clint threw up his hands. "And we _missed_ the first one?"

"It's not like we were looking for anything out of the ordinary," Natasha reminded him, letting the autopsy report fall shut. "This thing's useless. Nothing that we don't already know. And there weren't any witnesses."

"So both of these are a bust?" Clint groaned.

"Not exactly."

All of them jumped at Loki's sudden appearance in the middle of the room. Steve saw Natasha's hand fly to the gun at her belt. Gadreel was the only one who remained unfazed.

"What have you found?" he asked, stepping closer to Loki.

"The first victim is still alive," Loki replied. "I paid a visit to him in the hospital."

"Really?" Peggy looked surprised. "That doesn't sound like the Trickster."

"I would hardly call the man lucky. He still has not woken up." Loki's expression didn't change, but there was a hard edge to his voice. "I have not sensed the Trickster nearby, but if he has struck twice, then most likely he will again."

"Multiple hits in the same town?" Natasha stood up, dropping the report on the cover of the hotel bed.

"It appears to be his pattern." Loki glanced at her. "I also paid a visit to the man's wife."

"And?" Gadreel pressed.

"And she let slip that he had once broken her leg – in the exact same place that his is now broken." Loki let the fact sit before continuing. "She gave no specifics, but I was given the impression that it was not an unusual occurrence."

"So a guy who can't drive or does it drunk, and a guy who abuses his wife," Clint listed. "What do we do, find all the assholes in the town and try and guess which one's next?"

"Not necessarily," Gadreel spoke up. "Both Loki and I will be able to tell if the Trickster uses his power here. Once we have, we can confront him."

Peggy crossed her arms. "So you're saying we wait until another person dies."

Gadreel didn't respond immediately, evidently sensing that he was treading on rather unstable ground. "That may be our best option."

"That isn't good enough."

"I would prefer _not_ to face him where he has hidden himself," Gadreel said, not budging an inch. "We do not know what abilities he has, and he will have protected himself from danger. Confronting him when he is doing his… _job_ would put him off his guard."

"And someone else dies," Peggy pointed out.

Gadreel's brow furrowed. "To be entirely honest…I cannot say if it would be any great loss to have another"—he glanced at Clint—"'asshole' die. However," he added quickly upon seeing Peggy's glare, "I don't think it will come to that. I _will_ be able to sense his type of magic the moment he uses it, and I suspect his punishments take some time."

"There is one more thing." They all looked towards Loki as he spoke.

"What?" Steve asked.

Loki put a hand into his pocket, drawing out a handful of crinkly somethings that, when tipped onto the table, turned out to be candy wrappers.

"These were in evidence bags your police had collected," he said. "I believe the Trickster left them behind. It may be his…signature."

Steve stared. He couldn't count how many times he'd seen Tony eating candy, conjured up out of thin air. It had seemed more like habit than any actual need. How much more of the Trickster still affected him?

"Additionally," Loki said, while they were all still quiet, "with the amount of power Gadreel possesses, the Trickster will doubtlessly have already noticed that we are here. It would be smarter to attempt to confront him while he is distracted."

"Distracted," Peggy repeated, still looking unhappy with the idea. "That's _one_ word for it."

"If there were another way, we would do it," Gadreel said.

"Or perhaps not," Loki said, disregarding the glare Peggy shot his way. "I would prefer the option with the least amount of risk."

"Everything's risky," Clint complained. "This is the guy that turned Doctor Doom into a _statue_ and didn't even blink twice."

Steve grimaced at the reminder. He'd gotten some calls from the Department of State about Doom's appearance in Times Square and whether it could be reversed. When he'd said that he didn't know, they'd let the matter drop with only the barest hint of relief as Doom had been a thorn in their side for the longest time.

There was nothing Latveria could do, as the Avengers had kept their mission secret, entering and leaving Latveria without being detected. All they had was a statue of their leader in the middle of New York City, and there was no proof that the statue had once actually been the annoying dictator of Latveria.

"It's not like Doom was ever particularly difficult to deal with," Natasha pointed out. "Just annoyingly evasive."

"Diplomatic immunity doesn't work that way," Peggy said, repeating what Rhodey had said before. "I'm simply amazed they let him get away with it for so long."

"No one wants to piss off the magical dictator with an army of stupid robots," Clint said. "It's too much effort."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Steve cut in, tired of the conversation. "Doom's gone, and we have to deal with what his machine did. If we're going to wait until the Trickster shows his hand again, then we need to make sure we have a plan to deal with him."

Natasha pursed her lips. "We don't know what he's capable of."

"We've dealt with worse," Steve said, remembering hours bent over dusty old books in hopes of finding a way of caging the Morning Star.

"Your optimism is disgusting," Clint informed him.

Steve raised his eyebrows, pinning Clint in place with a _look_.

Following a brief period of silence from Clint, who wouldn't meet Steve's eyes, Loki said approvingly, "Most effective."

Gadreel nodded in agreement. "Gabriel agreed."

* * *

It took almost a day before the Trickster showed his hand again, evidently having determined that no one was going to come chasing after him.

They found him in a nearly deserted park, accosting a young man who had been backed up against the fence border. There was a young woman hiding behind a tree, too hysterical for anyone to try reasoning with her.

"Stop it!" Steve snapped, quickly stepping ahead of Gadreel and Loki.

The Trickster shot Steve an annoyed look, turning to face the new players and snapping his fingers. The ashen-faced man slumped to the ground, eyes closing.

"Seriously?" The Trickster shot a long-suffering look at the sky. "You're such a buzzkill."

"We're not letting you hurt anyone else," Steve said, meeting the other's eyes. The Trickster didn't look like Tony anymore, having changed his appearance to that of a blond-haired man with hazel eyes. He'd somehow obtained a wrinkled army-green jacket.

Shrugging, the Trickster nudged the young man's body with a foot as he pulled out a candy bar from his jacket. "Rapists don't usually get convicted, you know. You'd rather just let him go free?" He raised his eyebrows at Steve, a smirk pulling at his mouth.  
Though he couldn't help but look at the young man in a new light, Steve insisted, "I don't condone killing."

"Maybe he deserves it," the Trickster said through a mouthful of candy. "Would've thought you'd approve, being all about 'truth, justice, and the American way!'" The words were mocking, and slightly muffled.

Gadreel rested a hand on Steve's shoulder, the light pressure a reminder to hold back. "We would speak with you," he said to the Trickster. "Peacefully."

The Trickster eyed Gadreel warily."You don't bring the equivalent of a nuclear bomb to a peace talk," he said, head tilting as he inspected the angel with a narrow gaze. It was clear he shared the other Loki's dislike for angels.

"You do when it's likely to go sour," Clint said, shifting on his feet.

The Trickster considered that for a moment and then shrugged. He raised an eyebrow at them, taking an obnoxiously large bite from his candy bar. "Wouldn't've thought you'd be willing to _talk_ , the way angel-boy there's glaring."

"I will not harm you," Gadreel said stiffly, body tense next to Steve. "You need not fear that."

"Too scared of harming your little human friend?" The Trickster grinned sharply. "Can't say I share the same caution."

Loki stepped forward, giving the Trickster a thoughtful look. "That was a lie."

The Trickster pulled a face, giving Loki a sour look. "Oh, come on. You brought a lie detector? No fair."

Seeing as Steve hadn't really been aware of that little trick of Loki before this moment, he didn't have anything to say. "Would've thought you'd be used to that by now."

"What – because part of me was Loki at one point?" The Trickster made a dismissive noise. " _Pass_." He crumpled up the empty candy wrapper, letting it drop to the grass. "Are you here to try and persuade me to get the band back together? 'Cause I can tell you right now it's not gonna work." His grin was mischievous, but too sharp around the edges to make Steve comfortable. "But if you were to, say – _pass a test_ – then maybe I might reconsider listening."

"No way," Clint said. "That's never a good idea."

The Trickster hummed, eyes flicking from one person to the other. "Isn't this just a wonderfest of issues?" he mused, slowly circling the group and reminding Steve uncomfortably of some sort of predatory animal. "Talk about shady pasts. Some of yours are practically _black."_

"You have no idea what you speak of." Loki was watching the Trickster warily.

"Oh, please. Like these guys could keep any secrets from me." The Trickster gestured vaguely at the four human members of the group, smirking at Loki, and Steve stiffened at the implication that he was reading their minds. "It's not like you're an exception."

"None of that is any of your business," Peggy bit out, but the Trickster only laughed.

"Tell you what." He stopped, grinning widely. "Survive the next few hours…we'll talk."

 _Survive_?

"You will not harm them," Gadreel snapped, stepping forward threateningly.

"Aw, angel…" The Trickster's grin widened. "Who said anything about _harming_?"

Gadreel raised a hand, but the Trickster was faster.

The world around Steve tilted and bent itself dizzyingly, and by the time he managed to reorient himself he was staring down what seemed like an endless path, bordered by hedges.

While he did seem to be outdoors, he was _definitely_ nowhere near the park they had been in earlier. He was also alone.

Steve took the time to say a couple choice words about the situation and what he thought of it.

 _Now_ what?

* * *

Gadreel felt a wash of energy fly past him, staticky and harmless, if annoying. He burned it away with a flare of Grace, but he was unable to do anything in time to help the others, who all vanished.

Now a considerable distance away, the Trickster eyed Gadreel with an unreadable expression. "Can't win them all, I suppose," he said eventually.

Narrowing his eyes, Gadreel took another step closer. "Bring them back."

"No deal, angel." The Trickster folded his arms across his chest. "They'll either come back on their own or not at all."

Gadreel moved to grab the Trickster, but the latter vanished and reappeared behind him. "Nuh- _uh_ ," he sing-songed, moving backwards. " _That_ is cheating _._ Besides, if you do anything to _me,_ they'll never be able to get back. Not to mention what might happen to your ol' friend. You know, the human one you're trying to save?"

Gadreel glared daggers at the Trickster, who only grinned back, drawing another candy bar out of his pocket. "Admit it," he said. "Your hands are tied and you _know_ it."

"Why are you doing this?" Gadreel demanded.

"Why not?" the Trickster retorted. "I'm a _trickster._ Kinda what we do? Did you miss the informational briefing?"

Gadreel's forehead creased for a moment before he realized it was a joke, but it was enough to make the Trickster laugh delightedly. "Hoo boy, you're _really_ a factory-fresh model, huh?" He whistled. "And here I thought angels being flat and _way_ too literal might have been a stereotype."

"You know nothing of angels," Gadreel retorted.

"I know they make my life overly complicated." The Trickster dropped his wrapper. He was still grinning. "First all that Apocalypse crap, now this? You guys ever get tired of messing up people's lives?"

"I was not involved with that."

"Suuuure. And it was just the _demons_ who were gunning for the end of the world." The Trickster smirked at Gadreel. "You think I'm an idiot?"

"I was referring to me personally."

"Statement still stands. You're all the same. Isn't that how it works?"

"How would you know?" Gadreel challenged, making the Trickster freeze. "You say you're no angel."

"Like it's not obvious?" The Trickster scoffed, recovering quickly.

"You know them," Gadreel pressed, stepping forward. "Stop this madness."

That was the wrong thing to say. The Trickster laughed uproariously, practically bending double.

" _Stop_ the madness?" he managed once he'd calmed down. "Are you kidding? This place is _great_ for madness. I've got the whole damn world to myself and no other tricksters to get in the way. Hell, I'm not even mad I ended up in a completely different universe! This place—" He laughed again. " _This_ damn place was just _waiting_ for someone like me. And you think you can _stop_ me?"

Gadreel's expression was stony. "What did you do with them?" he asked, a threatening edge to his voice.

The Trickster's smirk made it clear that he thought he'd won the argument. "Relax," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "They'll be _fine."_ His smirk turned razor-sharp, his expression threatening laughter. "Ish."

" _Where are they_?"

"Why do you care?"

"They're my friends."

The Trickster, for a moment, looked genuinely surprised before his snarky mask returned. "Yeah, right." He scoffed. "What, you found a bunch of humans you liked better than the rest of them?"

"I can have friends," Gadreel informed him.

The Trickster just laughed again. "Right," he said sarcastically, something easy for Gadreel to identify. "Angels befriending humans? When Hell freezes over."

Something odd flickered over his face after he said that, a tiny crease of confusion, as if he'd suddenly forgotten something important, but it passed just as quickly as it had appeared. The Trickster clapped his hands together. "If we're done here?"

"We're not."

"Yeah, that's about what I was expecting you to say. Seeya."

The Trickster was gone before he finished speaking, the words lingering in Gadreel's ears teasingly.

Gadreel clenched his hands. He hated feeling this powerless, but somehow the Trickster had managed to get the better of him.

* * *

Steve was walking.

It felt like he'd been walking for ages. The path stretched on endlessly, and every few feet he'd come to a split – there were never less than three paths to choose from. The first time he tried to pick what seemed like the best option, but all it did was lead to more hedges and dirt paths, so eventually he gave up trying to make a "smart" choice and just picked one at random.

He was beginning to wonder if these led anywhere.

At first, when the hedges began to turn to glass, Steve wasn't sure he was seeing it right. The glass was tinted green and it was only the glint of whatever light source this place had (the "sky" was too uniformly blue and there were no clouds or sun in sight) off of the now-reflective surface that clued him in.

He tried breaking part of the bush off with his shield. Half of it shattered, a sizeable dent, but either there wasn't another side to this maze or the "hedges" were a lot thicker than he thought.

It was hard to tell, because they reached several feet above his head.

Wary, Steve kept going.

The green glass turned to clear glass and then to a frosted blue glass, an icy-blue white, and when it started to smooth out with only odd bumps, nicks, and frosty white patches, Steve started to get nervous. The walls reminded him too much of ice. It had been years ago and he didn't remember much – well, anything – but it was still uncomfortable to be surrounded by it.

And if he wasn't mistaken, the path was getting narrower.

Steve glanced up at the wall. He was sure they were getting taller, a curve added to their height, so that they met over his head and closed down on him the farther he walked until he stopped.

Steve glanced at the wall.

How thick could it be?

His shield crashed through the wall and shattered part of it, glass raining down. Steve was glad he'd been wearing his suit when they'd confronted the Trickster or else he'd have ended up covered in glass cuts. He pushed forward, crashing through the seemingly endless glass wall.

Every step he took crunched and he was surrounded by even more blue than he had been before; Steve was beginning to think this might have been a bad idea.

He kept going.

He practically collapsed in relief when, _finally,_ the blue gave way to a more transparent color and the final thin sheet of glass cracked and gave way underneath his shield – the paint now scratched and nearly ruined. He nearly slipped on the glass that cascaded out with him, and then stumbled again, because the floor suddenly dipped much lower.

He looked up.

The scene before him was completely unfamiliar, metal and glass stretching far above him in towering and twisting shapes. The buildings were like nothing he'd ever seen.

Steve's heart sank.

 _It's just the Trickster,_ he told himself furiously. _This isn't real._

"Mr. Rogers?  
Starting in surprise, Steve turned sharply, raising his shield but finding himself faced only with a woman wearing an unusual outfit. She raised her eyebrows.

"Put it down," she said. "I don't know how you managed to get into the Temporal Agency, or what you're doing here, but now that we've finally managed to get a lock on you I should probably tell you that there's no use being a superhero now. We've got a handle on it."

"The what?" Steve asked, bewildered and just then realizing that he was staring out a window. There was no sign of the glass wall he'd smashed through.

"Temporal Agency," the woman repeated. She was a lot younger than he'd thought at first. "You know, time travel and such?"

Steve's stomach plummeted to somewhere in the vicinity of his knees. "Time travel?" _Please, no._

She gave him an odd look. "Yeah. You _did_ come here on purpose, didn't you?"

Steve opened his mouth to answer.

That was about when Peggy kicked down the nearest door.

She looked relieved to see him. "Steve!"

Steve found he couldn't really say much of anything, relief making him giddy and weak-kneed. But he did manage to eventually say, "Peggy."

The woman from the Temporal Agency seemed to sag. "Not you, too," she said wearily.

Peggy ignored her, going straight to Steve. "Thank goodness you're here."

"You've no idea," Steve said fervently, unable to resist reaching out and touching just to be sure. Peggy's hand was warm under his fingers, and she let him twine their fingers together.

"Did you both come from the same place?" the woman asked, eyes flickering between the two of them.

Peggy gave her a dismissive yet calculating look. "We're fine, sweetheart," she said, tone syrupy sweet. "We'll be out of your hair shortly."

The woman narrowed her eyes slightly. "This is a restricted zone."

"I'm sure it is," Peggy said, "so we'll just be off now. No worries, hm?"

Folding her arms across her chest, the woman glared at Peggy. "I wasn't done," she said stiffly.

"Sorry, honey." Peggy pulled at Steve's hand, drawing him away from the other woman's bewildering behavior. "Steve's off limits."

Steve's fingers tightened on his shield straps. "What—" he began.

"Go on," Peggy said to the woman, quieting Steve with a quick squeeze of her fingers. "If you're going to try and pull what the other one did, then I'll take you out just as quickly." She raised an eyebrow, practically daring the woman to try it.

Visibly hesitating, the other woman eyed both Peggy and Steve calculatingly. Eventually she came to a decision, shaking her head and taking a step back. "I'm no fool." She raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Have fun in the game, children." She disappeared in a blue shimmer.

"It's not fun," Peggy said to the empty air. To Steve, "Come on. We need to find the others."

Bewildered and relieved was not a very good emotional combination, Steve figured. He wasn't quite sure what was happening, other than it was all the Trickster's fault.

"What's going on?" he asked once they were out of the Temporal Agency.

"It's some kind of maze," Peggy answered, leading him determinedly through the empty streets of what seemed to be some kind of futuristic city. The sky was too blue, and the air too still to be anything natural. "It shows you…" Her lips twisted, her eyes pinching. "It shows you what you fear," she continued softly.

"Fear?" Suddenly the ice made a lot more sense, although it had been a bit of a weak start. Steve forced a swallow, clearing his throat. "What was yours?"

Peggy didn't meet his eyes. "There are a few times in my life I would not care to revisit," she said slowly. "The months and years after the war were not my favorite."

Unsure of what to say, Steve settled for squeezing Peggy's fingers, reassured when she returned the gesture. "How'd you find me?"

"Accident," Peggy said. "I was just trying to get out of mine. That's how I realized it was a maze – I ended up in a sort of green area. It was full of hedges and such. I'm sure I went in circles a few times, and then I ended up at that door and decided to go through."

"So, what, the Trickster wants us to beat the maze?"

"Perhaps." Peggy shot him a smile over her shoulder. "Either way, I think it's a sure bet that we'll find the others in similar situations. He did say we had to pass a test, didn't he?"

"Would be nice if he told us what the rules were," Steve said, definitely not complaining.

"Much more sporting," Peggy agreed. "But, somehow, I don't think that's his style. He's a bit more like that character from the _Saw_ movies."

"I never watched them," Steve admitted.

"They're a bit too gory for my taste," Peggy said. "And the characters make such foolish decisions…"

Most characters in movies and books tended to, but it was a nice escape for Steve. This – whatever the Trickster had stuck them into – was the opposite.

And they still had to find the rest of the team.

"Gadreel should still be out," Steve said after a few minutes. They came to a stop in front of a building, Peggy jimmying open the lock.

"I doubt he can do anything," Peggy said, opening the door. The inside of the building was nothing more than what seemed to be a back alley. Steve had been in enough to be familiar with them. It definitely smelled like one. "Otherwise," she continued, waving a hand in front of her face, "we would already be out."

Conceding the point, Steve led the way into the back alley, shield up protectively. The door slammed shut behind them, vanishing into the wall like it had never been there.

"If we have to walk through miles of this, I'm going to knee him where it hurts," Peggy muttered. "Some things are too much."

Wisely not responding, Steve turned left as the alley opened onto a dark street that was somehow just as smelly and dank as the alley. There were also people lying on the side that seemed drugged, injured, or dead.

Steve wondered whose fear this was.

"This looks like the dregs of every city rolled into one," Peggy said thoughtfully, eyeing a corpse lying next to a lamppost.

"With more dead people."

"This one's just being obvious about it," Peggy pointed out.

They kept walking through the street, Steve carefully not looking at the people lying on the side. He had no idea what he might see if he looked more closely, even if this wasn't _his_ fear. There was no telling what the Trickster could do.

Sometime later, Steve heard what sounded like a scuffle in one of the alleys. Sharing a quick glance with Peggy to confirm that she had heard it, too, they dashed into the dark, Peggy pulling out a small flashlight. Steve kept his shield up, unsure of what they would find.

"Ah, very _good_ , my boy," a sleek, oily voice said above their heads. " _Magnifique._ "

There was only stony silence in response, but a moment later there was what sounded like an arrow hitting stone.

Catching Peggy's eye, Steve nodded slightly and pointed above their heads.

Peggy slipped away, blending into the shadows. Steve could hear faint scuffling sounds as she climbed up to where the voice had come from.

Steve kept walking forward, this time more cautiously. He was sure Clint would remember them, but he was more worried about what else might be here.

There was a rustling, scraping noise from above, and Steve ducked instinctively, bringing his shield up over his head.

But all he heard was an amused voice saying, "I'm not going to shoot, Cap. Unless," Clint continued conversationally, "you're not actually Steve Rogers."

There was a faint yell of outrage, and then the sound of a body hitting asphalt.

Steve peered up, trying to make out Clint's figure in the dark. "It's me," he said. A second later he could have hit himself because wouldn't an imposter say the same thing?

Clint didn't respond.

"Clint?" Steve tried calling, letting the shield down.

"Hi, Clint," Peggy's voice said, also from above Steve.

There was another yelp, this time from Clint, and the sound of an arrow firing. A faint grunt came from the same general direction, and then Peggy's weight was on top of Steve.

Unprepared for it, Steve hit the ground, Peggy on his back, wondering just what he had done to deserve this.

"Don't sneak up on me!" Clint hissed, suddenly sounding a lot closer than before. The sound of boots creeping across the asphalt came from the area by Steve's head. "But I guess you're real."

"What told you that?" Peggy asked, rolling off Steve's back.

"Did you say something?" Clint sounded faintly embarrassed. "I, uh…I can't hear anything at the moment," he admitted reluctantly, the words sounding slightly off, like he wasn't sure how loud he was speaking.

"That does explain why I could sneak up on you," Peggy said, her voice louder.

Steve pushed himself upright, picking up his shield from the ground.

"Being louder doesn't do much good," Clint said apologetically. He must have guessed what Peggy had attempted to do. "I'm practically deaf – loud sounds are about it, and I don't think you can sound like an airplane."

Peggy made an odd motion with her hand, thumb and pinky finger sticking out, and moved it up and down, nodding as she did.

"You know sign language?" Clint looked pleasantly surprised.

Glancing at Steve, Peggy spoke and continued the odd motions with her hands. "I learned; my granddaughter is deaf."

"Lucky duck," Clint said admiringly. "I know folks who wouldn't do that."

Feeling out of sorts, Steve shifted his weight on his feet, glancing back to where Peggy had taken out the other man. "We should go."

There was a pause as Peggy relayed this to Clint before Clint said, "Yeah, sounds great. I really want to punch the Trickster in his fat mouth. What's funny about taking my hearing away?"

"I don't think it's supposed to be funny," Peggy said. "It's our fears."

"Oh." Clint didn't continue.

Stepping away from them, Steve turned back to where they had come from, intending on going back to the street and finding an exit from there. It had worked last time, after all.

Still, they had taken barely ten steps before someone stepped in front of them, blocking their way. The man had dark hair and eyes and was dressed in unassuming clothes.

"Did I say you could leave?" he asked in that same French accent Steve had heard before.

"I've no idea what you just said," Clint said cheerfully, "but I'm guessing it was something totally chic about how I can't leave. So here's my response to that, _sir_." He notched an arrow to his bow, raising it in the other's direction.

"Would you kill your old mentor?" the other man asked, his lips shaping the words clearly.

Clint's face was like stone. "Nice try, but the old Jacques would never have called anything I did 'magnifique.'"

Jacques's face didn't change. "You can't hear me."

"But I can read lips." Clint let the arrow fly, but the man it was supposed to hit vanished in a puff of blue smoke a split-second before impact. "Damn it."

"I'm sure he'll show up again," Peggy said. "Let's go and find the others."

"You mean we have to go through more of this?" Clint groaned. "Damn, I wish I could hear."

"It should be temporary," Peggy assured him, though she didn't sound very confident.

It was a good thing Clint couldn't hear that, Steve thought. When Peggy didn't sound very confident, it didn't exactly mean good news.

* * *

They found Natasha next.

She was in someplace similar to Russia, a place that had Peggy's eyes hardening and her mouth thinning dangerously.

When asked, all Peggy would say was that she had been here before.

Steve remembered some of the stories Peggy had told him about her career in the SSR after the war. One of those had involved a mission in Russia.

Shooting an uncertain look at one of the beds with handcuffs on, Steve wondered if this fear-dream and Peggy's memories were the same.

"Fuck," Clint sighed halfway through the building. "Natasha." That was when they realized _whose_ fear they were in.

There was movement out of the corner of Steve's eye as Peggy signed to Clint. "Have you been here?"

There was a considering silence for a minute before Clint answered heavily, "Not with her. But there was an op…" He shrugged, leaving it at that.

"Do you know what we'll find?" Steve asked, turning to face Clint as he did so the other could read his lips.

"I've got some idea," Clint admitted. "But I'm not sure. She'll know something's up."

It was one thing to know something was wrong, and another to be able to do something about it. If Peggy hadn't come and knocked down that door…Steve would genuinely have lost the plot for a little while.

It was now that he could think more clearly on his fear and realize how baseless it was. Tony would still be around, no matter how much time he lost. As would Gadreel and Tony's kids. He would have lost the others, but he wouldn't have been alone…

But it was still a fear. And now that the Trickster had brought it out into the light, Steve was having trouble shoving it back down.

"This place is totally deserted." Clint said, ducking back into the room they'd ended up in after entering what, from Clint's side, had looked like a derelict apartment building. He hadn't offered an explanation for the dead – or dying – people in his fear.

"Maybe loneliness is part of it?" Steve suggested.

"No," Clint said, sounding certain. "There's gotta be something else to it."

"Are they somewhere else?" Peggy asked, signing at the same time.

"I can't tell." Clint gave the room another glance, expression stiff and almost disgusted. "I don't even _want_ to know what this place is. The sooner we get out of here, the better."

"Depends on how soon we find Natasha."

The sound of bullets firing from somewhere else in the complex made Steve and Peggy whip around towards the noise, and Clint looked at them sharply. "What?" he asked, louder than he probably intended.

Peggy signed something that Steve guessed meant 'guns,' even without knowing sign language. They were all warily watching the doorway, and Steve edged closer to it with his shield held in front of him.

There wasn't anyone in the hallway – no one visible, at least.

The three of them crept through the facility, aware of the slightest movement and noise (well, most of them). There was still the occasional burst of fire, usually only one shot at a time, but they never seemed to get any closer to the source.

"This is taking forever," Clint whispered in a voice that was more of a stage whisper.

Peggy signed something back. Steve, looking around the corner, couldn't hear Clint reply but could _definitely_ shove both of them back as a hail of bullets was sent towards them.

Peggy swore as she was shoved backwards, the visor of her helmet flashing. "There's three of them!"

" _What?"_ Clint asked, louder than he probably meant to.

Peggy repeated the statement in sign language as Steve risked another glance around the corner, bullets ricocheting off his shield. He saw two figures in uniforms at the end of the corridor…so where was the third?

Peggy ducked behind the shield with him and shot a few rounds at the figures, but none of her bullets seemed to find their mark. Peggy made a disgusted noise. "I wouldn't be surprised if it was impossible for me to hit someone."

"I'd like to know where their friend is," Steve said.

"How many are shooting?" Clint asked.

"Two." Steve glanced at Peggy, who raised two fingers for Clint's benefit. "You said there were three."

Clint was silent for a moment as Peggy relayed the information, a temporary pause settling. "How do you know there's three?"

"Heat signatures."

"This is Trickster-land, isn't it? How are the shooters giving off heat?"

Steve and Peggy exchanged a glance, and Peggy's eyes suddenly widened, something flashing across her visor. "Incoming—"

Someone yelled and Steve darted around the corner again in time to see a dark shape vanish around the one at the end of the hallway, the two shooters heaps on the ground.

"What?" Clint and Peggy said at almost the exact same time.

"The third one!" Steve shot back. The black shapes vanished with a now-familiar blue shimmer.

"I just lost two heat signatures," Peggy said, surprise evident.

"They vanished," Steve told her, not turning around, which turned out to be a bad idea.

If he hadn't been facing the other way, he'd have seen whoever kicked him over before they did so.

Steve hit the floor with a surprised grunt, more taken aback than actually hurt. He flipped over as a gun clicked.

It was Natasha holding it on him.

"What the hell?" Clint sounded strangled, probably because he was half stuck under Peggy, both of them on the floor as well.

"Natasha—"

"Prove you're really him," Natasha said before Steve could get any further. Her expression was flat, and her hand wasn't shaking. She really would shoot him if he didn't handle this right.

"The Trickster could tell you anything I'd say," Steve said slowly. "This is—"

"A trick." Natasha watched him carefully for another moment, then holstered the gun, much to Steve's relief. "A fake wouldn't have told me that."

"Thanks for the confidence." Steve accepted the hand she offered him. "Was it really necessary to do that?"

"It would have been if you'd been fakes," she replied easily.

"Oh, did you say something worked? Thank God." Clint picked himself up, letting Peggy stand as well.

Natasha gave him an odd look. "Weren't you listening?"

"He can't hear," Peggy explained, making surprise and worry flash across Natasha's face. "It's because of where we found him. These places show—"

"Our worst fears," Natasha interrupted. "I know."

Steve didn't like the way her face went still and neutral when she said that. "So all we've got to do is find Loki," he reminded the group, attempting to lighten the mood.

"And then what?" Peggy asked. "There's a maze out there, and I don't doubt we're intended to complete that once we pull ourselves back together."

"How are we supposed to find Loki?" Natasha asked. "On that note, how did you find _me?"_

"We didn't know it was you," Steve told her. "Not at first. This is just where we ended up." He explained how Peggy had crashed into his, how they had found Clint, how it had taken three false tries before they'd found the doorway into her fear.

Natasha looked skeptical. "That's too easy," she said. "Either the Trickster wants us together – which I doubt – or he's playing with us."

"There hasn't been anything bad so far." Clint looked like he was staring with unusual attention at Natasha's lips. Which he was, Steve reminded himself, as he was reading her lips.

"False sense of security."

"It's worked so far," Steve cut in, drawing their attention. "We'll keep trying and deal with whatever surprises the Trickster's got for us."

Peggy's mouth was flat, but Steve got the feeling that it wasn't directed at him. He smiled at her. "We'll get out of here."

* * *

Maybe he'd spoken too soon.

He didn't know how long it had been, but it had definitely been a _long_ time since they found Natasha and were now trying to find their way out to get to Loki.

There was no way to go outside, even though there were windows. They wouldn't open, and there were no doors to the outside. Every time Steve tried to open a window, Natasha would stiffen and her eyebrows pinch together. She also didn't seem to take it well that there were no doors leading outside.

The rooms all looked the same after wandering through the place for several hours. Or what seemed like several hours according to Steve's internal clock.

There were the rooms with rows of beds with handcuffs attached to the frames. There were the rooms with desks, chairs, and a projector playing Disney movies. There was even what looked like a ballet studio with a piano at the end, but Natasha quickly moved them on from that room, lips pressed tightly together.

After what seemed like forever, Clint finally broke down and threw himself down on the floor, proclaiming very loudly, "I refuse. The bastard's _playing_ with us!"

Sharing a helpless glance with the others, Steve crouched down by Clint's side, poking him to get his attention. "We can't give up," he said encouragingly.

Clint didn't respond, not having heard Steve.

Huffing, Natasha went and tapped out Morse code on Clint's back using her foot. _Do you want him to win?_

"No," Clint answered, dragging out the word. "But I'm _sick_ of this." He turned his head so his face was visible.

Steve made sure Clint could see his lips as he said, "You think we're not?"

"You're always cheerfully optimistic," Clint told him, raising a hand to pat Steve on the knee. "You don't count."

Steve could remember a few times where he _hadn't_ been optimistic… "I kind of want to punch him," he admitted.

"So do I," Peggy agreed, nodding.

"So we get out of here to do some serious punching?" Clint sighed and sat up, dusting off his uniform. "I can get behind that."

"We just need to be a little creative," Natasha said, her signs slow and halting. "This walking around in circles isn't helping."

"Are you suggesting we break something open?" Steve asked, letting Peggy do the translating for Clint.

"You do have the shield," Natasha pointed out, pointing to the shield as well. "And even if this is a trick, he pulled it from my memories. I know every inch of this place."

"I'm all in favor of burning this place down," Clint said, thumbing his bow thoughtfully.

"Let's save that for a last resort," Peggy said quickly. "I'd rather not find out what happens if we're stuck in a burning building with no escape route."

"Chances are it wouldn't catch fire anyway," Natasha said dryly. "It'd just spoil the fun, after all."

Steve didn't know about that. He'd been in the workshop several times when Tony had set fire to something or another and then just watched it burn while grinning like a mad scientist.

"Tony likes pyrotechnics," Peggy said. "Of course, there's no way of telling if the Trickster does."

"Let's just see if we can make a hole somewhere," Steve said, ending the conversation. He stood, the shield on his back adjusting accordingly. It was what he had done initially before ending up in that Temporal Agency thing, and it had worked well enough. Otherwise he would still be in that ice.

Shivering at the thought, Steve refocused on what they had to do now to get out of this and find Loki.

"Next window we find, we smash it," Natasha said, making a window with her hands and then punching through it. Clint looked rather satisfied with the description.

"That wasn't quite right," Peggy told Natasha, "but I suppose it'll do."

"Sign language's all about the visuals," Clint informed Peggy cheerfully. "She got the point across well enough."

"Well enough?" Natasha looked scandalized, hands moving more confidently now. "I thought it was eloquent."

"'Window punch,'" Clint said, grinning. "Very eloquent. But visually effective," he added hastily as Natasha's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Let's move," Steve cut in before it could get any more ridiculous. He felt stupidly out of the loop as the only one unable to sign. It was something he would rectify once they got out of this.

Peggy nodded in agreement. "Let's."

The next window Natasha led them to, Steve reared back with his shield and slammed it full force into the glass. He didn't expect it to break so easily, the shattered pieces glistening like starlight in the false light of outside.

The floor tilted beneath his feet, and Steve was unable to keep his balance as he fell face-first onto the floor. Although dazed from the shock, he didn't allow himself to lie still, rolling into action and moving into a protective crouch a second later.

There was nothing there.

There was disgruntled muttering from Clint that was too loud to really be called muttering. Natasha simply uncoiled from her crouched stance to a standing one, Peggy getting up slightly less gracefully seconds later.

Following them, Steve stood as well before giving Clint a hand up. That was when he really allowed himself to take in the vast scope of the golden hall they'd found themselves in.

"This has to be Asgard," Peggy said.

"It is," Steve answered, remembering the hall from his brief visit over a year ago. "It's the palace."

"You've been to Asgard?" Peggy asked, glancing at him curiously.

"Once." Steve managed a faint smile at the memory, unable to muster up any real cheer considering what had followed. "We were busy at the time."

"We had Leviathan to deal with," Natasha said casually, shrugging. "Nasty things."

Peggy frowned slightly, thinking. "So that was Tony's thing, then? I was wondering about that whole affair when it came up on the news. I just never put two and two together. I suppose I should have."

"With the type of stuff we face on a regular basis, Leviathan aren't exactly _unusual_ ," Clint pointed out. "Besides, it was quick."

"We're not going to see them here at any rate," Steve said, hooking his shield back on his back. "But we will find Loki. Let's go."

* * *

They didn't find Loki.

Steve was _pretty_ sure they had explored the entirety of the palace looking for Loki, and there wasn't hide or hair of the god. He also hadn't seen any windows this time, which made sense given they had broken out of the last fear using a window.

"How much do you want to bet Loki isn't here at all and it's just the Trickster messing with us?" Clint groused, glaring at another flight of stairs. "Haven't Asgardians ever heard of elevators?"

"That's a sucker bet," Natasha said.

Sighing, Peggy rocked back on her heels, tipping her head back to study the arched ceiling. "We'll need to find another way out."

"I don't think my shield's going to work against these walls," Steve admitted, glancing at said walls.

"That would be boring," Peggy said, waving a dismissive hand. "We'll need to do something new. Something _original_."

"Jump off the topmost floor and go splat?" Clint suggested.

Steve grimaced at the mental image while Natasha wrinkled her nose.

Only Peggy looked like she was seriously considering the idea.

"No," Steve told her firmly. " _No_."

"It would be entertaining," Peggy said thoughtfully.

"And we might also be very dead." Steve shook his head. "I'm not risking that. We'll think of something else."

"Short of wandering around in more circles until we discover every last speck of dust this place holds, I haven't seen any other options," Peggy said.

"We'll find one," Steve insisted. "Just…" He glanced back where they had come from, thinking. "Let's go to the throne room."

By that time, they were all familiar enough with the route that Steve didn't have to lead them to the room. When they entered, Clint made a beeline for the steps to the throne and sat down heavily, sighing loudly.

"I," Clint declared, "am going to kick his _ass_ when we get out of here."

"Join the club," Natasha said. "I know plenty of non-lethal ways to cause pain."

"That's not going to make him want to talk or cooperate with us," Steve said weakly.

Natasha looked at him with something resembling pity in her eyes. "I don't think he's going to cooperate with us. We might be able to talk with him, but he's even more unreasonable than Loki. Cooperating is out of the question."

Making a frustrated noise, Steve marched past Clint and up the steps to the throne. "That doesn't mean we give up," he said sharply, spinning around on his heel to stare down at Natasha, who seemed unimpressed with Steve's posturing.

"How's the view?" she asked dryly.

Lips thinning, Steve took a moment to take in the view of the throne room from the throne. Maybe there was something he had missed.

There had to be a way out of here to get to where Loki was. No maze was impossible to solve. That would suck all the fun out of being in a maze.

There had to be some trick to it…

Thinking, Steve stepped back until he felt the throne hit the back of his legs. Then, slowly coming down to sit on it, Steve moved to rub at his temples.

There was no warning before the view before his eyes spun out of focus and then back, and Steve found himself sitting in a bank of snow, startled.

Jumping upright, Steve took in the bleak, snowy landscape around him. It was dark, but there was enough ambient light from something else that he could see.

Taking an unsteady step forward and feeling the snow crunch under his boot, Steve was about to call for his friends when something slammed into the back of his legs and sent him bowling over.

He rolled into another snowy bank, arms flailing as he tried to stop. When he finally managed to get his bearings and wiggle his way into a sitting position, he saw that what had slammed into him were the others, who were now disentangling themselves from each other.

"Real intuitive there," Clint said, dumping out some snow that had gotten into his quiver. "Sit on a throne and then you're out. Who thinks of that?"

"At least we're out," Natasha said, standing. She wiped off the snow clinging to her suit. "No matter how accidental it may have been."

"I'm fine," Steve said, letting Peggy pull him to his feet. He shivered despite himself, feeling the cold, wet material of his uniform stick uncomfortably to his skin. Damn it, he _hated_ being cold.

"Of course," Peggy said quietly, eyes worried.

"Let's just find Loki," Steve said, wanting to get this over with. "And then we can go."

"How?" Natasha gestured around them. "This place is worse than Siberia – and there's going to be no way of telling where we are."

The expanse of snow around them was flat and deep, coming up to Steve's knees. In some places wind had blown it into piles and created patterns in the layer of frost on top of the wetter snow, creating tiny snow-ripples.

The cold meant that Steve had a hard time appreciating the view, especially when the only thing in sight other than snow was an ominously looming structure in the distance.

"Do we go over there?" Natasha glanced at Steve. "Loki could be in it."

"He might not be."

"It's the only shelter in sight."

Steve sighed. She had a point, but he had a feeling it wasn't going to be any warmer there.

"Let's go," he said. "I don't want to be in this cold for any longer than I have to."

* * *

Said ominously looming structure was further away than it had looked.

By now, Steve was even wetter and colder than before, and he couldn't stop shivering. He had lost most of the feeling in his fingers, and no amount of rubbing his hands together was helping.

The moment he had the chance, he was going to ask Tony if it was possible to insulate his uniform against the cold. It offered protection against fire, but they'd never considered that he might end up freezing.

 _He'd_ hoped that he'd never end up in that situation again.

The way things were looking, frostbite might get to them before they got to Loki. The structure, revealed to be a sort of building once they got close enough, afforded very little cover.

"Think of something warm," Peggy advised him, rubbing a hand over his arm.

Steve tried to think of a nice, toasty fire. Or him being bundled up in the warmest blankets he owned. He just felt colder. "It's not working."

"This place is way too cold for mental tricks," Clint said, startling Steve, who hadn't realized the archer was paying attention to his conversation. "It's like Hell's buttcrack in here."

Steve winced at the reminder, as he couldn't help but think of what Tony had looked like after Gadreel had rescued him.

"What would you know?" Natasha asked. "You've never been to Hell. For all you know it could be boiling hot. Isn't the saying 'when hell freezes over'?"

"Fine, spoil my fun. It's like that one op we had in the Arctic with the penguins."

"That's Antarctica," Peggy informed him.

"It was cold and white and cold," Clint said dismissively. "Same difference."

Steve almost told them to focus, but then realized that they were distracting themselves from the bitter cold. It was definitely helping him take his mind off how he couldn't feel his feet anymore.

The scenery was also helping, as they had to be careful and watch their step, lest they sink too deeply into the snow or stumble over a hidden rock. The structure – which had looked intact from a distance – clearly wasn't in good shape. There wasn't much of a roof, and the walls were largely ice and craggy rock.

"This is a really weird fear," Clint said, blowing on his fingers and grimacing. "Wouldn't have linked it to Loki."

Whatever Steve might have said died in his throat when he turned a corner and saw the tall figure standing on a craggy outcrop. "Loki?"

The figure turned, and Steve stopped breathing.

It was Loki – Steve could recognize that much – but he looked utterly different, skin dark blue with intricate markings engraved in it, and where his eyes were normally white, they had turned a dark blood red that was visible even from a distance.

Loki fixed them all with a suspicious look, his hands flaring green with magic. "Is this another trick?"

" _Super_ blue," Clint whispered under his breath, so quietly that Steve had to strain his ears to hear him.

Steve wanted to shoot him a glare, but he got the feeling it would be a bad idea to take his eyes off Loki. He stepped closer, stopping when the green energy around Loki's hands flared again. "It's not a trick," he said cautiously. "It's us. Really. We found a way out of where the Trickster put us."

"Pardon me if I fail to believe you." Loki's eyes were narrow from what Steve could see. He cast around for something that would make Loki believe that it was them.

"You are trying my patience," Loki hissed after a moment of tense silence stretched out between them.

"Loki, seriously – it's us." Peggy stepped forward. "I may have met you only a little while ago, but I know you're talented enough with magic to tell the difference between a real and a fake."

"The Trickster's illusions can become flesh and blood if he wills it," Loki snapped back. "They may be as solid as you are now."

"And you've had trouble with fake versions of us?" Peggy replied sarcastically.

"He may be switching methods."

"Loki…" Peggy was probably rolling her eyes – Steve wasn't in the best position to see. "I may not know magic, but I'd like to think even the Trickster can't make _that_ good a duplicate of any of us. It's not like he knows us as well as Tony did."

"C'mon, just listen to them so we can get out of this icy hellhole," Clint said, the words nearly whipped away by a sudden burst of wind that pierced Steve's uniform even more than the snow did, making him shiver violently. Loki eyed the group warily, but his hands lowered slightly.

"Since when are you blue?" Natasha asked, probably sensing that any threat had passed.

Loki stiffened, turning and raising his hand as if he was trying to block their view of him. He dropped it in the same moment, realizing the futility of the move, since his hand was blue as well, with the same intricate patterns. "Now you see me," he said bitterly, "as I truly am, without a mask of illusions."

This…was Loki's natural form?

Steve couldn't really tell why Loki was ashamed of it, but this wasn't the time or place for such questions – if Loki would even have answered them.

They had to get out of this.

* * *

 **Review, please! I feel like we cut it off in kinda an awkward place, but don't worry, there will be more on that front later.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hell yeah, chapter five! I hope you weren't too worried about Steve, Peggy, and the others (Mild spoiler: they're not getting out anytime soon).**

 _ **Anyway,**_ **some more important developments going on in this chapter! Little bit more of Gabriel because come on, who doesn't like Gabriel?**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Avengers.**

* * *

Gadreel had retreated to the hotel room they had been in previously, trying and failing to come up with any way to get his friends out of the Trickster's grasp. He couldn't think of any plan that didn't involve finding the Trickster again and forcing him to let them go, but the Trickster was still a part of Tony.

Gadreel didn't want to hurt him.

He didn't sense the other presence until they were in the room, and then his head snapped up, because he _recognized_ who it was.

"Gabriel."

The archangel regarded Gadreel silently as the latter stood, wondering what on earth Gabriel wanted with him.

"I wanted to speak to you," Gabriel said after a moment.

"About what?" Gadreel asked, bewildered.

Gabriel looked almost reluctant to speak, but if he hadn't wanted to be there then nothing could have forced him to stay. "Why are you on their side?" he asked at length.

"They?" Gadreel was aware he sounded confused, but there was nothing for it.

"The ones you were with before."

Gabriel must have been referring to his teammates, Gadreel realized. "Why would I not be?"

"What would be the gain in my joining with any of them?" Gabriel sounded almost frustrated, and Gadreel didn't have to ask which 'them' he was referring to. "Pagans, Gadreel?"

"They are a part of you."

"That can't have been what was supposed to happen."

Gadreel had never heard Gabriel talk about anything having been 'supposed' to happen, but then again he'd only met the archangel after the latter had been human for several decades. "I don't believe there was anyone telling you that you could _not_ become them," he said cautiously. "I do not know the circumstances which led you to that, but as you are fine now there doesn't seem to have been a case of divine disapproval."

Gabriel was watching Gadreel carefully, which was unnerving considering what Gabriel might do to Gadreel if the conversation strayed into worse waters. "Regardless," he said quietly, "you haven't answered."

Gadreel hesitated before replying. "I met you when you were fully yourself," he told Gabriel. "I - it would be a good thing, I think, for you to be whole instead of separate."

"And be part-"

"I do not believe it matters _what_ the other parts of you are, they are still _you."_ The words were out before Gadreel could remind himself that it was a horrible idea to interrupt an archangel.

Gabriel remained silent for several moments. "You've changed," he observed.

"Thanks to you." Gabriel, as Tony, had had a large effect on him.

Gabriel's expression could have been taken as mildly confused. " _Me_?"

"Yes." Gadreel pursued his chance. "You learned a great deal as Tony Stark."

"As a human? What answers could they offer?" Gabriel scoffed.

"More than you think," Gadreel replied. "You explained some of it to me, though I still don't understand as well as you did. Forgiveness. Redemption. Free will."

Gabriel's mouth turned up in a smile. "We don't have free will."

"You believed we did," Gadreel told him. "I assumed you had a good reason."

"You keep saying that I've done all this," Gabriel said sharply, speaking over the last part of Gadreel's sentence. "I don't remember talking to you about any of this."

Gadreel privately doubted Gabriel remembered meeting him at all, as the other had been rather human at the time, and Gadreel had been inside Sam Winchester. "You're not alone in that. It seems to be a side effect of being split," he informed his brother. "None of you remember everything."

Something flickered across Gabriel's face at that, something that was gone too quickly for Gadreel to put a name to it. "When I was human—"

"When you were nothing more than human is what Tony Stark remembers," Gadreel said. "The both of you as one is like a dream for him." As he expected it was for Gabriel.

This time Gabriel's expression was clearly one of disappointment, but it was gone as soon as the last.

"Was there something specific you wanted to know?" Gadreel questioned.

"Nothing important." He could see Gabriel's wings flaring, him preparing to leave-

"Is it about your Grace?"

Gabriel froze, and Gadreel knew he had guessed correctly. His Grace must have still been volatile - not a surprise to anyone but Gabriel, who of course wouldn't remember properly.

Gadreel partially hoped he didn't.

"You know." Gabriel stepped closer, gaze once again fixed on Gadreel.

Gadreel inclined his head. "Yes."

"What happened?"

"That would be easily answered if you—"

" _Stop,_ Gadreel," Gabriel snapped. "I have already told you my opinion on _that._ I'm in no mood for riddles. Either tell me or don't."

"You _know,"_ Gadreel shot back, feeling unusually brave. "And you _will_ know again if you only listened to me. You know that."

"I know something happened to me." Gabriel's eyes were narrow. "Why are you so insistent on not telling me?"

"Why do you refuse the easiest option so emphatically?" Gadreel retorted. "It could be solved quickly enough if you would just be willing to help and consider other options."

Gabriel blinked and stepped back. Gadreel hadn't realized how the former's power had been weighing down on the room until the pressure was suddenly gone. It made it easier for him to breathe, and the faint smell of ozone vanished.

There was something different in the look he gave Gadreel. "You really are on their side."

"I am on _your_ side, Gabriel," Gadreel replied. The archangel just couldn't recognize that Gadreel was trying to fix the problem.

Gabriel didn't wait around to respond, and the noise his wings made lingered long after he did.

Gadreel sighed, sitting back down in the empty and silent room.

He hoped he'd managed to make a difference.

* * *

"Loki—"

Loki jerked away when Steve reached out to him. " _Don't_ —"

Steve froze, startled by Loki's vehemence. The latter sighed, posture sagging.

"It would be unwise to touch me in this form," he said quietly. "It would do more damage than extended exposure to this cold would."

"How is this what you 'really' look like?" Clint put air quotes around "really," even though Loki wasn't facing them. All Steve could make out was his back and part of a blue neck.

"I am not Æsir by birth," Loki said bitterly. "My... _normal_ appearance is simply a spell, to hide what I truly am."

"Loki, none of us care what you are," Steve cut in. He could hear a mountain of self-loathing behind Loki's words, and he hated that he hadn't known about this before.

Not that he'd had a right to know. He didn't have the right even now - this was the Trickster forcing Loki to reveal the one part of himself that it looked like he despised.

"You would if you knew what I was."

"You're our teammate," Natasha said. "Species doesn't change our opinion of you."

Loki laughed bitterly. "You do not even know what Jotüns _are."_

"Personally, I don't care." Steve put a hand on Loki's shoulder before he remembered the latter's warning, but the layers of clothing between him and Loki seemed to prevent any adverse effects. Loki stiffened under the touch, but Steve kept his hand there.

"You're our friend," he said quietly. "What do you say we get out of here together and show the Trickster what we think of his tricks?"

Loki turned slowly, red eyes meeting Steve's unflinching gaze. They darted behind him, to the rest of the group.

Slowly, he nodded.

"Jotunheim is no place for humans," he said, "Even a false version of it. We should leave quickly."

"This is Jotunheim?" Peggy looked around curiously. "I hadn't realized."

"That's great, but how are we gonna get out?" Clint asked in frustration. "I don't see any doors, and that was the way out of most of them."

"There aren't any windows, either," Natasha observed, noting the complete lack of any solid, unbroken structure.

"Or a throne," Clint said, shooting Steve a look.

"This is the throne," Loki said, eyeing Clint oddly.

"Ah." Clint peered at the extremely rocky throne that didn't look like much of a chair.

Though if Steve squinted, he could make out the seat where someone could

sit.

"Have you sat on it?" Natasha asked. "That's what Steve did in Asgard."

"I am no king," Loki said sharply. "Nor do I wish to be one; certainly not of _Jotunheim_." He sneered the name like it was a curse.

"That would be a no, then," Peggy said, raising an eyebrow.

Stomping his numb feet, Steve stuffed his hands under his armpits, hoping vainly it would do something. "Can you try it at least? It's worth a shot. If it doesn't work, we'll figure something else out."

Giving Steve one last look, Loki stepped up to the throne and sat in it.

Nothing happened.

"You look really majestic," Clint said finally, shooting Loki a thumbs up. "It brings out the color."

Glowering at him, Loki stood, wiped off his robe, and marched down until he was on their level. "Let us go," he snapped. "I doubt Steven will last much longer."

Steve couldn't even muster the energy to blush, however welcome the rush of heat would have been. "I-I'm fine," he protested.

"That was a worse lie than usual," Peggy told him, rubbing his arm roughly.

Pressing his lips together, Steve looked down, wishing he was anywhere but here. He hated the cold and ice and snow. He couldn't really remember his time in the ice, but occasionally there were flashes…

And being surrounded by white and utter cold was bringing him back to that dark place.

"I think I have an arrow that can make a fire," Clint said, pulling an arrow out and inspecting it thoughtfully.

"If that even works here," Natasha said, fingers clumsy as she signed. "My Widow's Bites don't."

"I can still shoot arrows."

"My gun works fine, too." Natasha shrugged, fingering the black electrical bracelets on her wrists. "But these don't."

"There's no way to tell how much control the Trickster has over this world," Peggy said. "Our concern now is getting _out._ Once we're not all freezing our arses off, we can worry about weapons. I doubt we'll need them here." She glanced at Loki. "What do you think?"

"There was no one here other than me before you arrived," he said. "I think it would be safe to say that we are alone."

Steve wasn't sure whether that was reassuring or not.

"Fuck it," Clint muttered, nocking the arrow he'd pulled out and aiming at the ground. "I'm gonna try."

"Maybe try somewhere that is not covered in snow," Loki suggested dryly, Peggy tapping Clint on the shoulder to get his attention and quickly translating.

"Why are you repeating my words?" Loki sounded perplexed.

"Because the Trickster took away most of his hearing," Peggy said, signing it so Clint could follow along. "This is American Sign Language, a way of communicating with people who can't hear."

"I see." Loki watched her for a moment longer, eyes lingering on her hands. Then, turning away, he said, "Come; I know a place where your fire might work."

"We should focus on getting out," Steve protested.

"Let's warm up first," Peggy said, glancing at him worriedly. "We can't do anything if we're all frozen."

"I doubt he would let us die," Loki said, not turning around. "It would rather spoil his fun."

"This isn't very _fun_ ," Clint said grumpily, flexing his fingers.

"It is to him, or else he would not be doing it."

"I can't believe that dickwad was ever Tony," Clint said far too loudly. He didn't seem to see Peggy signing something at him - probably to lower the volume. "Tony's an ass, but he's never been _this_ much of an ass."

"Maybe we just haven't seen much of the Trickster," Natasha suggested. "I imagine being human would make him think twice about doing stuff like this."

"It would explain a lot," Peggy mused.

"Are you coming or not?" Loki called over his shoulder irritably. "I may be more tolerant to cold, but I doubt any of you are."

It wasn't like they had any better option.

* * *

Loki led them up what was a surprisingly steady staircase and to what might have classified as a balcony, if it hadn't been half-covered in ice. There wasn't much snow, which made it a good place to start their fire.

If there hadn't been something there already, that was.

"I'm guessing that whatever that is, it's bad news." Peggy had stopped right behind Loki, who had frozen when he noticed the blue...thing sitting on what was probably a short pedestal in the middle of the balcony slash bridge thing.

"What, why did we stop?" Clint peered over Loki's shoulder. "Oh."

"What is that?" Steve asked, glancing at Loki, who didn't seem to be able to look away.

"The casket," Loki said tightly. "The Jotün's source of power."

"When you say source of power," Natasha began, "You mean-"

"What allowed them to be such a fearsome enemy to Asgard," Loki finished. "In the beginning, at least. It holds the magic they used to cover entire villages in ice and snow. I have no doubt its presence was the reason the real Jotunheim is an icy wasteland."

Steve glanced at their surroundings. "You think this is what's causing all this?"

"Highly doubtful, unless the Trickster has managed to retrieve the actual Casket from Asgard's vault - and even then, only a Jotün could wield its power."

"So what would happen if we tried with the real one?" Peggy had moved closer to the Casket out of curiosity, hovering over it.

"Nothing good," Loki said darkly.

Clint still had the arrow strung in his bow. "Do you mind moving out of the way?" he asked, still louder than strictly necessary, even with the wind. "I don't want to set any of us on fire."

"By all means." Loki backed up, allowing Clint past. Peggy moved away, too, leaning against the casket and resting one arm over it.

She vanished in the next second.

They all stared for a moment, and then Natasha strode forward. "Guess we found our way out."

Her hand touched the handle of the Casket, and Steve made out the barest flicker over its surface before she vanished too.

"Hell, yes." Clint almost dropped his bow in his hurry to follow Natasha.

Steve glanced at Loki, who gestured at the Casket. "After you."

Well, Steve definitely wasn't going to stay there longer than absolutely necessary.

It felt like his whole body had fallen asleep, the staticky pins-and-needles feeling flashing over him and then he was back in the maze, in the company of three others and staring up at the impassable hedges.

"If this is the Triwizard Tournament, I'm not touching the Cup," Clint said, putting the arrow back in his quiver.

"That would be terribly uncreative," Natasha said, looking back and forth between the two paths they could take.

"It's not like he's been creative to begin with," Clint pointed out. "It's just stuff he's pulling from our heads."

"Dangerous stuff," Loki said darkly from behind Steve, making the latter spin around at the Asgardian's sudden appearance. He wasn't blue anymore, either. Loki folded his arms across his chest and looking up at the artificially blue sky. "At any rate, I suspect we shall need to solve this maze before we can be let out."

"I have a knife," Natasha said, pulling out said knife. "Let's mark our path."

"I should have brought my spray paint," Peggy said, sighing. "I knew the art of graffiti would come in useful one day."

"You know graffitti?" Steve asked in surprise.

"Are _you_ the one who's been giving the kids the paint?" Clint demanded.

Peggy's face looked too innocent to be genuine. "Perhaps."

"Do you have any idea how long it took me to get the paint off the walls?"

"I thought it was rather artistic," Natasha admitted, grinning as Clint glared at her.

"Sure, cuss words in different languages and computer binary is _creative_ ," Clint complained. "Tony just shrugged when I told him."

Natasha looked unsympathetic. "What did you expect?"

"Some parental concern!"

"This is Tony we're talking about," Peggy said. "His idea of parental concern is giving them a blowtorch and telling them to have at it."

"He's not _that_ irresponsible," Steve protested. "He gives them protective gear."

"It is not as if they can be injured as humans," Loki said, giving them all an impatient look. "If you are done bickering, we should get moving. I would rather not find out if he is taking a cue from this tournament."

"That raises the question," Clint said a few minutes after they picked a direction and started walking. "Does he know about _Harry Potter_?"

"There's no telling when his memories start," Natasha said, shrugging and digging out a hole in one of the hedges to mark their path. She dropped the branches to the ground, putting the knife away to continue signing. "If you remember, the other Loki's last memories are in the fifteenth century."

"We can always ask," Steve said, though he was sure the Trickster would probably just eye him balefully and refuse to answer. Or maybe suck on a lollipop; it was a thing Tony tended to do to make other people uncomfortable.

"Oh yeah," Clint drawled, rolling his eyes. "Let's just ask if he's a _Harry Potter_ fan and whether he prefers the books or the movies. I'm sure we'll get along _great_."

"Calmly or angry?" Peggy asked, smirking.

"Calmly, damn it! I don't know what Gambon was thinking with that acting choice or why the director even allowed it."

"Artistic license," Natasha suggested, dropping another branch at their feet before gesturing to the left-hand fork.

Loki was giving Clint a searching look. "Your hearing seems to be working now."

Clint stopped, one hand rising to his ear. "Huh," he said. "Wonder why? And hey, you're not blue anymore!"

"Indeed," Loki replied dryly. "I'd noticed. I would assume it's because we made it to the maze."

"What, like a reward?" Natasha's mouth twisted. "Or maybe a sign we're going in the right direction."

"If he wants us to get out, at least we know it's _possible,"_ Steve reminded them. "If he didn't..."

"If the guy who makes mini-worlds to stick us in for fun didn't want us getting out, we wouldn't," Clint finished for him. "Some optimism you got there, Steve."

"Hey, a bright side's a bright side."

The path they were following widened into a circular clearing, and Peggy, who was leading them, stopped in the center. There wasn't any sort of decoration, only a dirt circle instead of a straight path, but there were two other arches of hedge leading to two separate paths.

"Okay," Clint said, "who else thinks this is gonna end up as a trick?"

"That is, I believe, a sucker's bet," Loki said with a completely straight face.

"Which way, do you think?" Peggy glanced back at Steve, who shrugged. The entrances looked identical to him - hedges styled to look like grassy, green versions of marble arches. It was the fanciest thing he'd seen in the maze so far, which didn't make him feel better - all it meant was that the Trickster had spent more time on this place.

"Right," he said.

"Because you've got a good feeling?" Natasha asked.

"I picked one at random," Steve admitted. "They're probably equally bad, but we don't know what's coming either way."

"You really know how to cheer up a guy," Clint muttered, but they all went for the right-hand arch anyway.

They dropped a branch just in front of the arch before stepping through it.

Nothing changed.

Exhaling in relief, Steve continued forward, his team at his back. The sky was still blue, the hedges still green and towering over their heads, and the grass still soft under their feet.

Nothing had changed, except…

"Maybe I'm just sensitive to it now, but has it gotten _really_ quiet or is it just me?" Clint asked in a low tone.

That was it, Steve realized. It was too quiet.

"It's not like there was noise before," Natasha pointed out.

"No, he's right," Steve said, glancing around suspiciously. "This is like - like-"

"I'm expecting spooky music anytime now," Peggy said. "Or suspenseful."

"Don't give him any ideas," Natasha hissed, shooting her a sharp glare.

There wasn't any music - spooky or suspenseful - but there wasn't any other sound either except for their breathing and their footsteps.

Steve rounded a corner - the only turn that this path had - and abruptly found himself looking at the clearing they had left.

"Well," Peggy said after a moment. "That was anticlimactic."

"We went that way," Natasha said, pointing to the branch still lying in front of the arch they had chosen last time. "We should take the other path this time."

"I suspect it will not be that easy," Loki said, giving the hedges a suspicious look.

"I am going to kick his ass when we get out of here," Clint said.

"You said that already," Natasha reminded him.

"I'm gonna say it again," Clint said loudly, looking up at the sky. "And again. Because this isn't funny!" The last words were shouted.

"He thinks it is," Loki said dryly. "And you are adding to his amusement."

"Let's see how amusing he finds it once I stick an arrow up his ass."

"We're not going to hurt him," Steve said sharply.

"It was going to be a putty arrow," Clint said, putting up his hands. "Y'know...putty."

Natasha looked pained. "Please stop talking."

"Let's keep moving," Peggy cut in, sharing a look with Steve. "Standing around and talking isn't going to solve anything."

"Should we try the other path?" Steve suggested. "Obviously, this one doesn't lead anywhere."

"Might as well." Natasha said with a resigned air. "There's no other way to go, except back the way we came."

* * *

Tony didn't notice the other person into the room until he looked up from the tablet he was reading and nearly choked on his drink.

He thought it was a perfectly reasonable reaction, considering that it was _him_ looking back at him.

Managing not to start coughing, Tony carefully put the tablet and glass down. "Gabriel, right?" If it was one of the other two he was probably screwed.

"Yes."

Tony decided not to beat around the bush. "There a reason you decided to visit?" he asked. "You didn't seem all that interested in helping out last time we talked."

Gabriel didn't immediately answer, instead glancing around the room. Tony was in the room with the machine, and he saw Gabriel's gaze linger.

"I assume that's what did it." It was still _really_ weird to hear his voice coming from someone else.

"Yep."

Gabriel's gaze finally moved back to Tony. "I spoke to Gadreel," he said. "He seems to think rather highly of you."

"More like me when I was _all_ of me." Tony reminded him. "So you're included in that."

"It's not just respect for an archangel." Gabriel was watching Tony with so much intensity it was a little unnerving.

"So, what, did you come here to stare at me?"

"No." Gabriel said shortly. "I was wondering what you did to give him that opinion."

Tony, briefly taken aback, just shrugged. "When we met, I guess it was both of us. I don't remember it."

Gabriel's forehead briefly creased, and Tony recognized the flicker of irritation. "Nor I," He admitted.

"'Nor'?" Tony snorted. "I never seriously talked like that, did I?"

Gabriel looked puzzled. "I don't see what's wrong with it."

Technically, nothing was. "It's kind of unnecessarily formal," Tony pointed out. "No one talks like that anymore. Unless they're Harvard professors or something."

Gabriel didn't look any less puzzled, but he did shrug. "I didn't realize."

Tony hesitated before asking. "How much do you remember?"

Something flashed in Gabriel's eyes, and for a moment Tony thought he'd crossed a line. Then the angel relaxed, if relaxing meant he was holding himself slightly less stiffly and no longer looking like he was about to make something explode.

"Not much of your history," Gabriel said.

" _My_ history?" Tony questioned.

"Human history," Gabriel elaborated.

"Oh." Tony could have probably guessed that. "When-"

"I can't give you a year." Gabriel said shortly. "I never paid attention to your system of time. But I don't doubt I remember more than the rest of you."

"What makes you say that?"

Gabriel smiled at him, in a sarcastic sort of way that Tony was sure was all _him,_ not Gabriel. "The beginning of my existence to some early point in your species' development is, by your standards, not a short amount of time."

Well, he wasn't _wrong_.

Gabriel's gaze wandered to the machine again. "Why do you have that?"

Tony glanced over at it as well. "I was kinda trying to figure out _how_ it did what it did," he said. "Y'know, since I'm trying to get myself back together."

Gabriel looked at something just behind Tony, and looked so surprised that Tony turned around to look, too. "What?"

Oh.

He'd forgotten that Samael had come down into the lab with him out of curiosity earlier that day. Ne had eventually fallen asleep on the cot, and ne was still sprawled out on it. The blanket had ended up on the floor, but Sam was clutching the pillow like it was a stuffed animal instead of putting nir head on it.

"Is it common to have children in a lab?" Gabriel questioned.

"Not generally, but it's okay," Tony said, turning back around. "That's just Samael."

Gabriel's gaze sharpened, piercing Tony and pinning him in place. " _Samael_?"

There was a note of something unidentifiable in his voice, almost muffled by pure disbelief.

Gabriel vanished with a noise that Tony recognized, from the last time he'd seen the angel, and Tony turned sharply to see where he'd gone. The angel was standing stiffly in front of the cot, bent over as if to get a better look at the still fast-asleep Samael.

"Hey, hey!"

Gabriel didn't move, his body utterly still. "Do you know who that is?" His voice was deadly quiet, some hint of emotion hidden in the words.

"My _kid_ ," Tony said sharply, quickly moving to stand by Gabriel. "So if you're going to try anything, you better reconsider."

"I would not harm a child," Gabriel said tersely, turning his head to look at Tony, his eyes dark.

"It's not like I would know," Tony said, stepping into Gabriel's space to push him away. The other's chest felt like an immovable brick wall under his palm for a brief second before it gave way and Gabriel stepped back, his eyes flickering back to Sam. "I don't really know you."

"Nor do you know who you host in your house," Gabriel said, his eyes pinching. He looked pained, a faint shiver wracking his frame before it disappeared, his muscles tensing. "Even changed as it is, I would recognize that core."

Tony had only a faint idea of what Gabriel meant, and the blurry memories were filled with such heat and fire that he wasn't quite sure he _wanted_ to remember. "What do you mean?"

"You say that is Samael," Gabriel said, meeting Tony's eyes. "Samael was-" He broke off, brow furrowing. He tried again. "Samael was my sibling. My…older one."

"But there were only four," Tony blurted out, unthinking. "We were the youngest."

Gabriel didn't seem surprised at Tony's outburst, inclining his head in confirmation.

"So Sam…" Tony shook his head, uncertain of how he knew this. "Who was Sam?"

Gabriel looked back at Sam, something terribly sad passing over his face before it vanished. "I don't think it matters anymore," he said eventually, his voice soft. "Who Samael was…that's not there anymore."

"And that's…important?"

"Not anymore." Gabriel seemed to shiver again, almost involuntarily, before pulling away from the cot and Sam, putting some distance between them. "You said you were looking to restore the machine?" he asked, changing the subject.

It was such a tactless way of doing so that Tony almost winced. "Yeah," he said instead, giving Sam one last look before joining Gabriel. "I mean, I'm a bit more interested in _how_ it did it, but…" He shrugged, gesturing at the demolished power source he had pulled out sometime within the last day. "It was storing energy, but I can't make much else out. Since _someone_ destroyed it," he added.

Gabriel shot him a glance. "And this... someone was us?"

"From what JARVIS has put together with the energy readings, it's pretty conclusive." Tony shrugged, making it as casual as possible. As Gabriel was here now, he could ask the other the question that had been bugging at him since finding out that he had been responsible for this. "But it wasn't a controlled blast. Something spooked us…and I'm guessing we're not easily spooked. So…do you have any ideas about that?" He kept the question mild, not looking at Gabriel directly.

Still, it was easy enough to see how Gabriel froze out of the corner of his eye, including the way his eyes went blank, almost as if going somewhere else.

When no answer was forthcoming, Tony took a solidifying breath, then continued. "I've had dreams, but I don't really remember them. Something happened and I don't know what." He half-turned to Gabriel. "Do you?"

Gabriel turned away from him, breath escaping in a shuddering gasp before it cut off, almost as if he was holding it.

Hesitantly, Tony reached out to touch him. "Gabriel-?"

The response was violent, something silver flashing through the air and barely missing Tony's hand. He flinched back, eyes wide as he met Gabriel's, which were flaring silver.

" _Don't_ -" The voice was almost unrecognizable, ragged and pained, and Gabriel cut himself off, swallowing. When he spoke again, it was in a quiet whisper, "Don't touch me." The silver sword he had pulled out of nowhere was tucked back up his sleeve, his fingers noticeably trembling as he moved. Gabriel clenched his hands into tight fists, but it didn't help much.

"You remember," Tony said, always one to press his luck.

Gabriel didn't respond immediately, his eyes flickering to Sam before fixing on the floor between them. "Not completely." His voice was still quiet. Then, "I wish I didn't."

"If you remember, why do I get flashes of it?" That wasn't how this memory thing worked. Either they remembered something or they didn't or Tony had these blurry memories. But it wasn't this stupid, vague, fuzzy shit that only popped up in dreams.

"It wasn't for you," Gabriel said, voice still almost a whisper. He swallowed again, a hand moving up to touch his throat before it dropped. "It's not for humans to remember."

Clenching his eyes shut, Tony remembered a flash of agonizing, brutal pain in his throat before it vanished into the ether. "And that's what made us lose control?"

Gabriel looked at the machine, his hands curled into fists at his sides. "I've not been the same… Not with what I remember. And I…" He glanced to Sam. "I don't understand." The admission sounded like it was painful for him, which was something else he had in common with Tony. He hated not understanding.

"Would you like to?" Tony offered a surprised Gabriel a small smile, gesturing to the machine. "I'm no expert on magic, but my guess is that finding some way of putting ourselves back together might help with figuring out the blank spots in our memory."

There was a small, minute hesitation before Gabriel responded, something in his body relaxing as he nodded imperceptibly. "Very well."

* * *

"Hey, Tony, have you seen - _holy shit!"_

"What?" Tony looked up. James was standing in the doorway, the tablet he was holding clattering against the floor.

"You're lucky I build those so drop-proof," Tony said, almost offended that James had been so careless with it. "What'd you do that for?"

"There's _two_ of you." James was still staring. "Which one's he?"

"Gabriel." Tony glanced over his shoulder at the angel, who was observing the data they'd already collected with an unnerving level of concentration. The only movements he made were to make the occasional adjustment to whatever he was looking at.

"I thought your angel-self didn't want in." James looked just as weirded out by Gabriel's stillness.

Tony shrugged. "Guess he changed his mind. He's the one who showed up here. Maybe he was just mad we summoned him."

"A bit." They both jumped as Gabriel spoke. He wasn't looking at them, but with two pairs of eyes burning a hole into the side of his head Gabriel's head tilted up to look at them from where he was sitting.

"You know, it's kinda rude to eavesdrop," James said.

"You weren't making much of an attempt to be quiet, if you didn't want to be overheard," Gabriel pointed out.

"Yeah, Barnes." Tony smacked James' flesh-and-blood shoulder. "Don't be rude to me."

James shot him a flat look. "Hilarious, _Stark."_

"I know. It's a natural talent. What did you come down here for?"

"Jarvis wanted to know if you'd seen Sam." James's eyes stayed on Gabriel, probably noting how the angel stiffened minutely at the mention of Sam.

"Yeah, ne came down earlier." Tony gestured to the cot.

"She today, I think," James said. "Jarvis called Sam she, anyway."

Tony shrugged. "She didn't say anything to me about it, then. You wanna let her sleep, or-?"

"I'll take Sam upstairs. I doubt the lab is the best place to be, with _two_ parts of you down here." James strode over to the cot, reaching down and shaking Sam lightly.

Sam made a displeased, sleepy noise, clutching the pillow tighter. Tony saw her crack open one eye.

"Afternoon," James said. "You picked down _here_ to nap?"

"I didn't mean to." Sam rubbed at her eyes, rolling over onto her back. "I wanted to watch Dad work."

"So interesting that you fell asleep?" James teased.

"I was tired," Sam protested, making a face at him.

"Maybe you shouldn't be making mischief with your siblings," James said, eyebrows raised.

"I'm not beating up people in back alleyways," Sam pointed out, a small grin pulling at her lips.

James poked her. "That was all Steve, sweetie. I was the one dragging his sorry ass out."

"And the one backing him up!"

"What stories has he been telling you?" James snorted, easily hauling her up into his arms. "C'mon; we'll let your"-he shot an uncertain glance to Tony and Gabriel-"ah, _them_ work."

Sam looked at them, eyes widening when she saw Gabriel. "There's two of you!"

"I know," Tony said, glancing quickly at Gabriel, seeing that the other was resolutely not looking at Sam at all. "This is Gabriel, my…quarter."

James coughed, sounding like he was desperately suppressing laughter. Gabriel's only reaction was a twitch and his eyes flickering to Tony in disbelief.

"He doesn't look like a quarter," Sam said, confused. "He's not round _or_ silver."

"He _is_ worth twenty-five cents," Tony said, grinning.

"I have no value in human worth," Gabriel said, bewildered.

"So you're a cheapskate?" Sam asked.

Gabriel just stared at her, looking utterly thrown off-balance. Tony didn't blame him. Now that he'd been told Sam was - or rather, _used_ to be an angel - it put her interactions with Gabriel in a different light than if he hadn't known.

"I don't use money often enough to be classified as such," Gabriel eventually told Sam.

She wrinkled her nose. "What are you, really?" she asked Gabriel.

"Gabriel."

Sam glanced disbelievingly between the two of them. " _Dad's_ Gabriel," she said, and Tony noticed Gabriel's face flicker between emotions and settle on something like surprise.

"I told you I got split into bits, remember?" Tony said, crouching down. "He's the other one. I'm not Gabriel at the moment."

Sam gave Gabriel another searching look, then seemed to decide something and looked back at Tony. "I _guess_ that makes sense."

Gabriel was giving Sam a searching look; then, turning sharply, retreating back to where a veritable maze of hologram screens had been left hovering over the table. Sam watched him go with a puzzled gaze, then turned and darted out of the lab without any prompting.

"She's probably off to go cause more chaos," James muttered.

Tony shrugged. "Long as the Tower stays standing I'm cool."

"Yeah, I think that's at least half the problem here."

Tony laughed to himself, turning back to the problem at hand, i.e., the stupid machine. "If you've got any suggestions that don't involve parenting, feel free to stick around."

"I don't think I even know what you're doing anymore," James muttered. He did linger in the room, trying to get a look at what Gabriel was doing. The archangel either didn't notice him (which was unlikely) or didn't care that James was standing a foot or so behind him and trying to peer over his shoulder.

"I am not going to smite you if you get too close," Gabriel said after a moment, making James's attention shift and sharpen.

"It's not like I've ever dealt with an angel like this," James muttered, and then raised his voice. "Just curious. I should probably go try to head off whatever mess is about to happen, anyway."

"Good luck with that." Tony waved absentmindedly over his shoulder, already absorbed in the puzzle laid out before him.

Maybe they'd actually get somewhere with Gabriel helping out.

* * *

The first time they heard the rustling, Steve thought it had been his imagination.

The second time was much louder, and made the entire group freeze. Steve cast a look back at Peggy, who was swiveling her head, trying to figure out where it was coming from.

"Please tell me I'm imagining that," Clint said.

"I hear it, too." Natasha had one hand on her gun.

"That's what I was afraid of."

There was a sizzling sound like something was catching fire, followed by the scent of burning wood.

Bad things always snuck up from behind. That was always the case in movies, and the Trickster seemed to be going for the cheesy stuff.

Slowly turning around, Steve found himself blinking rather slowly in stunned surprise at the rather large...insect skittering its way towards them. Arachnid?

It was a freaking scorpion.

"Oh my fucking Christ on a cracker," Clint yelped, evidently just having seen what Steve did. "It's a blast-ended skrewt!"

"There's no such thing," Loki said dismissively, eyes narrowed at the sight.

"We're looking at it," Natasha said evenly.

"How about we stop debating its existence and just run?" Peggy suggested. She grabbed hold of Steve's wrist and pulled him along, breaking into a sprint.

Steve heard the others following, along with the telltale skittering sound of that scorpion - skrewt - following.

"You don't run from animals!" Clint said. "They chase after you!"

"I don't fancy being poisoned or burnt to a crisp!" Peggy shot back, not looking over her shoulder.

Steve could hear well enough to know that the skrewt was slowly catching up.

"I could burn it," Loki offered.

"Does your magic even work?" Natasha asked.

There was a brief second as Loki evidently tested it before he reluctantly admitted, "No."

"Less talking, more running!" Clint urged.

Steve didn't have the breath to agree. He was too focused on getting the hell away from _whatever_ creature was chasing them. Clint had called it a skrewt-

"Clint!" He yelled.

" _What?_ I'm kinda busy trying not to get eaten!"

"Does it have a weak spot?" Steve glanced behind him, making sure no one had fallen behind, but the skrewt still on their tail didn't help.

"Yeah!" Clint sounded out of breath. The winding trail they were on didn't help, but at least it kept them one step ahead of the giant skrewt. "On the belly! There's a soft spot in the armor!"

"We need to get that thing to rear up or something!" Peggy shouted. "Unless we can _slide_ under it-"

"Not with this path!" It was hard-packed dirt, but if they had enough momentum...

Steve got what was probably a stupid idea. He spotted another path branching off from the one they were on, and the idea gained plausibility.

Slightly.

"Get in there!"

"The hell is that gonna do?" Clint shot past him anyway, rounding the corner and then skidding to a halt when he realized Steve wasn't following. " _Cap-"_

Steve threw his shield.

It was a good thing he knew how to use it so well - it flew past the other three, hit the ground at exactly the right moment, and bounced up into the skrewt's stomach.

The skrewt slowed, tottered, and with a slightly disturbing whine fell to one side.

It didn't get up.

Peggy came to a stop, panting for breath and grinning in disbelief. "Oh my God, you _nutcase_."

Clint stared at the downed skrewt. "I will never understand your shield's use of physics," he said plaintively.

"It's all in the throw," Steve offered, breathing heavily. "How'd you know what this thing was, anyway?"

"It's from _Harry Potter_."

"It is?" Natasha rolled her eyes. "Great. We gave him ideas."

"Let's hope not," Peggy said. "I'd rather not run into Voldemort."

"At least we'll know how to deal with most of what we may face," Loki pointed out. "Or you four will, rather."

"Three," Natasha corrected him. "I've never read them."

Clint mumbled something that made her smack his shoulder. "What? They're a modern classic!"

"That sounds like it should be an oxymoron," Peggy mused. "How old does a book have to be to be a classic?"

"We can look it up later." Steve slowly approached the skrewt, managing to tug his shield out from where it was firmly wedged.

"Gross," Clint said, noticing the residue where it had pierced the skrewt's skin. Personally, Steve agreed, but it wasn't a time to be picky. He managed to wipe some of it off on the ground, the dirt absorbing the sticky substance surprisingly well. Well enough that he felt safe putting it back on his arm, anyway.

The skrewt shivered, like it was underwater and someone had disturbed the surface. It vanished in the next second, a poof of blue mist assuring them that it was only the Trickster's creation.

Loki studied the spot where it had been. "Interesting," he said. "They vanish, but until they do they're completely solid."

"And very dangerous," Natasha added.

"I was merely remarking on the ability. Even I cannot make anything like _this_ completely solid. My conjuring is limited to mere illusions and small, everyday objects." Loki's fingers twitched, and Steve guessed he was thinking about whatever block was on his magic.

Shaking his head and giving the spot where the skrewt had lain one last look, Steve turned back to the others. "Let's keep moving and keep our eyes open. We don't know what else he'll come up with."

"I vote for no dementors," Clint said, shuddering. "Although…" He made a thoughtful noise. "I guess he already did that with those weird-ass worlds he stuck us in. Dementors would just be repeating himself."

"And he doesn't do that?" Peggy asked.

"Not according to what Tony said." Clint shrugged. "So I guess we'll see."

"He just ripped off _Harry Potter,_ " Natasha pointed out.

"Maybe he didn't do anything like that before?"

"It doesn't matter," Steve said sharply, pushing past them to take the lead. "What we need to focus on is getting out of here. We can handle whatever he throws at us."

* * *

What seemed like an hour later, but was probably much shorter, Steve was heavily regretting his earlier statement about handling whatever the Trickster threw at them.

Sure, the golden mist had been easy enough to handle, however disorienting it was - literally. As had the enormous spiders that had probably wanted to eat them. But the sphinx…

The sphinx hadn't even given them a riddle. It had just grinned toothily at them before pouncing.

They'd barely gotten away in time, and it wasn't until they ended up back in that same clearing as before that they realized the beast wasn't chasing them anymore.

"Oh shit," Clint gasped, hands on his knees as he fought to get his breath. " _Fuck_."

"Such a shame," Peggy panted out, clutching at a probable stitch in her side. They had been doing far too much running lately. "I was all prepared for a riddle."

"That would have been too easy," Natasha huffed, wiping her forehead.

"Doubtlessly," Loki agreed, sounding only slightly breathless.

Steve wasn't in as bad shape as his friends, but even he was feeling the strain of continually running away from things that wanted to eat them. It wouldn't have been so bad, but it had been absolutely ages since he had been able to eat something.

Natasha glanced back the way they had come. "Is anyone else," she huffed, "getting a little weirded out by the fact that they _always_ stop chasing us after a certain point?"

Steve took a moment to think, rerunning their previous encounters through his mind. That was true. They would run into the monsters, either be chased or kill them, and then the monsters would just…stop.

Right after they ended up back in the clearing. "This place is like a safe zone," he said aloud, looking round at the clearing. There were a lot more arches than there had been when they'd first entered the place, almost all of them marked by a sawed off branch. Whenever they returned, there was always one door that they hadn't gone through.

Quite frankly, Steve was sick of it.

"An unsolvable maze isn't any fun, you know," he said to no one. "It defeats the point of doing one."

"He's cackling at our frustration," Clint said, having sat down on the grass. "I just know he is."

"No, Steven is right." Loki craned his head, studying the too-blue sky. "As Gadreel told us, the Trickster's main goal is fun. This…is not."

"I don't know." Peggy looked considering. "I've known my fair share of scientists that have a lot of fun watching rats scurry around in a maze they can't get out of."

"So the Trickster's an evil scientist." Clint sighed, rubbing his face. "Good to know. I'll just wait around for the inevitable marshmallow man."

"Don't give him any more ideas," Natasha said. "The sphinx was the last straw. They're _supposed_ to give out riddles, not just chase after us like they're cats."

"They are," Clint said. "Giant cats with human faces. But cats."

"There's a way out of here," Steve said, glancing over every single exit that they had already used. "I know there is. He said this is a test; all we have to do is pass it."

"Yeah, but how?" Clint groaned. "We've been in this clearing eighty times by now. If there's a way out, we haven't seen it yet."

For some reason, this made Loki sit up from where he had been leaning against one of the marked arches.

"I wonder," he said quietly, glancing around. Getting up and heedless of everyone else looking at him, he moved around the edges of the clearing. Whatever possible solution he'd found, Steve couldn't see it.

"Mind sharing your idea with the class?" Natasha suggested dryly.

"It may be nothing..." Loki paused, in front of the space between two of the arches, and grinned. "Or perhaps not."

"What?" Peggy had sat up, watching Loki with sharp eyes.

Loki stepped forward, then sideways, and seemingly vanished.

Steve didn't have time to wonder before Loki reappeared, as if coming around a corner. "A hidden path," he said smugly. "Not a trace of magic hiding it, just the hedges and lack of a path."

"What, parallel to the clearing?" Natasha asked. "It would have crossed the other ones."

"I would assume magic was involved, so..." Loki shrugged. "Not necessarily."

"So we've got a way out?" Peggy was standing now. "Sign me up for that. I don't know how long we've been in here, but it's been too long."

Steve, glancing up at the permanently blue 'sky,' realized he had lost track of time as well. It was hard to be upset about that, with the new solution presenting itself.

Now they just had to worry about what they'd find at the end of this path.

* * *

 **Ooooohhhh...I don't know if I described the hidden path super well, but if you've seen Labyrinth (the one with David Bowie) then just think of that bit after Sarah first gets in the maze.**

 **Read and review, please!**


	6. Chapter 6

Bruce frowned.

Checked his watch.

Checked the calendar.

Frowned harder.

"Is something wrong, Doctor?" Jarvis questioned.

"I dunno..." Bruce glanced up at him. "How long has it been since Loki and the others checked in?"

He saw Jarvis's eyes widen, then blank out. The AI was probably checking phone records or something similar.

"A few days after they left," Jarvis said slowly. "There was a call from Agent Romanov at ten PM the day before yesterday."

That was _way_ too long for them to have gone without updating those back at the Tower. Bruce was already moving, meaning to go alert the others when Jarvis's hand caught his wrist.

"Wait a moment, Doctor."

"They might be in trouble!"

"I'm aware." Jarvis did look troubled. "But it may not be wise to disturb the others. _Yet,"_ he added when he saw Bruce's expression. "Besides, Mr. Stark is still down in the lab with Gabriel."

Surprised as he had been to see Gabriel helping out after the apparently disastrous conversation they had with him, Bruce had quickly accepted the other's presence. A helping hand from an archangel was always appreciated, even if he was a bit standoffish. "So?"

Jarvis sighed. "I'm hoping that perhaps the presence of another one of his selves will allow him to sleep for more than a few hours at a time, but the only way he'll sleep at the moment is if he drops off while working."

Bruce understood what Jarvis meant – Tony knew as well as the two of them that sleep most likely meant nightmares. "You think Gabriel being there will help?"

"He is an archangel, and they are technically the same person." Jarvis tilted his head. "The wisest course of action at the moment would be to try and contact them."

"If anyone answers," Bruce muttered, but he pulled his phone out anyway.

The receptionist at the hotel they had been staying at was helpful and a little overly perky for Bruce's tastes (he _had_ been up for a while; he could probably stand to take some of his own advice and go to sleep), and Bruce was almost immediately redirected to the room they'd taken.

The phone rang a few times.

" _Hello?_ "

"Gadreel?" Bruce was startled; the angel was the last person he'd expected to pick up the phone.

" _Doctor Banner._ " Gadreel sounded almost tired. " _I assume you're wondering about the team._ "

"Yeah, you guys forgot to call in and update."

" _It is just me here, at the moment._ "

There went the faint hope that they'd just forgotten. Bruce swallowed nervously. "What happened?"

" _The Trickster. We ran into him a few days ago. Whatever he did had no effect on me, but I'm still attempting to locate the others._ "

"Okay." Bruce ran a hand over his mouth. He didn't doubt that Jarvis was listening to the conversation as well. "And you don't know where they are?"

" _I've been looking, but I don't have much experience with tricksters. I have no idea where he may have hidden them._ " There was a shuffling noise on the other end of the line. " _Gabriel visited me._ "

"Gabriel did?" Bruce paused. "What did you say?"

" _He asked a few questions; I answered. Why?_ "

"He showed up here this morning."

" _Really?_ " Bruce could practically sense Gadreel's interest sharpen. " _What did he want?_ "

"He talked to Tony first." Bruce fiddled with his glasses, wishing he had both hands free. "He's still here. Apparently he changed his mind about not helping."

Gadreel's end was silent for several more moments. " _I had hoped,_ " he started slowly, " _but I wasn't certain he would decide to do so._ "

"Let me guess," Bruce said. "Did he ask anything about Tony?"  
" _I may have_ … _scolded him,_ " Gadreel admitted. " _For being an obstinate ass._ "

The crude cuss coming from the usually mild-mannered angel startled Bruce. "Well…I suppose it worked."

" _I wasn't smote_ ," Gadreel said, sounding a bit relieved about this fact.

Bruce hadn't even considered that likelihood. "Was…that a possibility?"

" _A remote one._ " Gadreel paused. " _Of course, it may have helped that I did not say_ exactly _that._ "

"Undoubtedly," Bruce agreed. He switched the topic back over to the original. "What about the others? Do you have some way to track them?"

" _I've exhausted all my usual methods,_ " Gadreel said wearily. " _And my default method of threatening the Trickster rather loses its touch if he knows I won't harm him._ "

"You know where he is?"

" _Tracking him was never the issue,_ " Gadreel said. " _It's untangling his brand of magic. As it is, I would rather not chance it._ "

Pinching the bridge of his nose and wishing desperately for some easy way to resolve this, Bruce sighed. "So we're stuck waiting until he either gets bored or they get themselves out. That's possible, right?"

" _He said this was a test,_ " Gadreel said. " _It has to be possible. He's willing to talk with us if they pass it._ "

"How rather like a fairy," Jarvis murmured, brows furrowed.

Bruce stifled a snort. "Let's not call him that to his face."

" _I'm sorry?_ "

"Sorry, talking to Jarvis." Bruce rubbed a hand over his face. "Look, just…keep in touch. Let us know what's going on. Don't go silent for days again."

" _I will keep you updated,_ " Gadreel promised. " _It cannot take them much longer._ "

When the line went dead, Bruce looked down at the phone to see that Gadreel had hung up.

He really hoped that Gadreel believed that. He didn't want to be the one to tell Tony that one of his selves had done away with half of their team.

"The Trickster hasn't left the area," Jarvis told Bruce. "Whatever happens, he will keep his word."

Bruce shook his head, dropping the phone into his pocket. "We don't know that."

Jarvis looked pained, eyes pinched. "He cannot be that different. They are the same."

The Other Guy was Bruce's innermost desires, but that didn't mean he would necessarily want him running around as his own person. Even with the help Tony had given him, the Other Guy was still volatile if he got riled up. "Well," he said instead, giving Jarvis a small smile, "we can hope."

* * *

The grassy path quickly turned to dirt, but it ran so straight and for so long without any divergent paths that Steve began to wonder if it wasn't just another trick.

Of course, that was the same point where they ran into a roadblock in the form of a giant plaza.

"What the hell?" Peggy, who was in the lead, stopped where the path abruptly became smooth yellow stone.

Steve stepped ahead of her, quickly scanning the plaza and taking in what it looked like a bunch of hollowed-out stones laid out in a star-shaped form. Inside the outer five stones were two smaller rings. Surrounding the plaza were pillars with flaming torches that crackled merrily, lighting the entire area in an eerie orange glow.

"Do we just walk across?" Clint asked, hesitating behind Steve.

The problem with that was that there didn't seem to be any exit. As far as Steve could tell, the plaza was it.

Loki had his head tilted to the side. "There is magic here."

"No shit, Sherlock."

Shooting Clint an irritated look, Loki continued, "There is even _more_ magic here. I would not advise crossing over this until we figure out what this is."

"It's another stupid test," Clint grumbled, looking skyward. "That's what."

"We can solve a test," Steve said encouragingly, stepping closer to the plaza to get a better look at what they were dealing with. "Let's see what we've got."

Peggy went to the other side, also studying the layout of the stones.

There was what seemed like ashes at the bottom of the stones, and when Steve went close, he could still feel the heat off them.

"I think we need to light these," Peggy called, looking up from her own stone.

"It can't be that simple," Steve said.

"What have we to lose?" Peggy responded, glancing over her shoulder to a torch behind her. "We can at least try."

Through mutual agreement, they all grabbed a torch except for Loki. He simply stood off to the side, frowning slightly and staring intently at the center of the innermost circle as if he was trying to dig a hole with the force of his glare alone.

If he still had his magic, Steve had no doubt he would have succeeded.

When Steve touched his torch to one of the outermost hollowed-out stones, he instantly jumped back when the fire, instead of simply lighting up the hollow, burst out in a single stream of flame to dance to the nearest hollowed-stone next to it.

A sharp yelp from Clint and a curse from Natasha and Peggy meant the same thing had happened to them as well.

"Okay," Peggy said breathlessly, sharing an uneasy look with Steve. "Looks like this'll be a little trickier than we thought."

Loki had his eyes closed, brow furrowed. "There is a pattern of sorts forming," he said.

"Do you want us to try again?" Steve asked, glancing at the nearest unlit hollowed-out stone.

The only answer was a slight shrug, which Steve took to mean as agreement.

Stepping back from the fiery stream that connected two of the stones, Steve went to another that was empty. He saw the others do the same.

The moment he touched the torch to the stone, something in the air changed.

There was a looming presence behind his back, accompanied by a fiery spitting noise he had heard before.

Loki said in a very calm voice, "There is a skrewt standing behind you."

Turning slowly, Steve found an enormous skrewt standing in the middle of the plaza. He numbly noted that the fires connecting the stones had gone out.

"I don't think that was the right move," Natasha said, craning her head back to eye the skrewt carefully.

There was no time for anyone else to speak, as the skrewt moved at that moment. Steve dove, avoiding an explosive ball of fire that hit the ground behind him. Rolling, he scrambled his way under the skrewt, avoiding the legs as it turned around, chittering angrily.

"Shit, it looks pissed." Clint was ready to fire an arrow.

"Now!" Steve shouted, spinning his shield up into the soft underbelly of the skrewt. He was directly under it, and the full strength of his throw had the shield digging directly into the soft belly.

There was an explosion as Clint's arrow hit its mark, and the skrewt screeched.

Something warm and sticky dripped down onto Steve, but he was already clearing the area to avoid being squashed by a humongous insect.

Seconds after he got clear, the skrewt hit the ground, twitching slightly in its dying throes. Once it was utterly still, Steve moved close enough to pull his shield out of the skrewt's stomach. The skrewt disappeared in a flicker of blue once the shield was out, and Steve found himself automatically checking on the rest of his team.

They were all fine; none of them had been nearly as close to it.

"Huh," Clint said. "All that gross stuff vanished."

"Lucky me." Steve's head did feel perfectly dry now. It must have vanished once the skrewt did. He consider himself lucky the Trickster hadn't thought it would be funny to leave the gross bits behind.

"Any ideas?" he asked Loki, gesturing back at the hollowed-out stones and the miraculously still-burning torches lying on the ground.

Eyeing the stones speculatively, Loki said, "Let's try this again, shall we?"

* * *

Several tries later, they had accidentally summoned the spiders from before – even angrier and larger than previously – a giant swirling cloud of golden mist that had all of them trying desperately not to throw up and figure out how to _undo_ whatever they had done, and the sphinx that had promptly looked at Clint and decided he would make a tasty snack.

The arrow to the sphinx's mouth had put an end to that relatively quickly, although Clint had been temporarily covered in several unspeakable pieces of sphinx.

"What is the _point_ of this?" Peggy barely avoided setting fire to another one of the squares with her frustrated gesture. "I can't tell what we're supposed to be doing!"

"Let's just…not." Steve stepped back, still holding the burning torch in his hands. "There has to be a right way to do this. Loki, you said there was some kind of pattern?"

Loki looked frustrated, which was not a look Steve had seen often. "I cannot tell what _kind_ of pattern."

"Okay, that's okay." Taking a breath, Steve forced himself to focus on the stones and think about what they could do. "We can figure this out."

"We have to connect them," Natasha said, head tilted thoughtfully. "It's not just about lighting them randomly."

That was true. It had to be true. There was no other reason as to why spurts of fire would jump from a lit stone to another. But what kind of pattern was the Trickster going for?

"He's getting back at us for poking fun at that sphinx," Clint said, idly twirling his torch around. "I know he is."

None of the stones in the innermost circle lit up. Trying to light all the stones in the outermost star-shaped pattern just resulted in monsters showing up, and Steve wasn't willing to go through being splattered with questionable innards again.

"Let's pick one and light it up," Steve said finally. "Just one."

"I volunteer you," Clint said, taking a large step back from the stone he'd been standing next to.

Rolling his eyes, Steve didn't hesitate before lighting up the stone closest to him.

As usual, the stone lit up, and a stream of fire jumped out from it to the one on the far right. The two stones continued to burn merrily.

"Great," Clint said, frustrated. "Now what?"

"We've been trying to light all the ones that don't have a fire in them," Peggy said. "Why don't we try the opposite?"

Clint raised his eyebrows. "I don't know about you, but I don't fancy getting burned."

Steve had quick enough reflexes that this probably wouldn't be an issue, but that didn't mean he was looking forward to putting a burning torch into an already burning stone.

Peggy read his decision on his face before he even moved. "Be careful."

Shooting her a reassuring smile, Steve went to the second stone that already had a fire in it. Taking a fortifying breath, Steve slowly put his torch to it.

The fire inside the stone flared brightly for a second before a second stream of fire burst out from it and jumped to the next stone.

Nothing else happened, and Steve found himself staring at three lit-up stones connected by a stream of burning fire.

"I think we're onto something here," Natasha said after a moment. "Should we try again?"

This time Natasha moved forward to light up the third stone, and she didn't flinch as the fire jumped to the fourth one by Peggy.

"Connect the dots," Clint said faux cheerily. "And if we fail, we get eaten!"

"Or maimed," Peggy said, stepping forward to carefully light the stone by her. The flame leaped to the one next to Clint, who stared at it as if it was going to bite him.

"It is working," Loki said, once again staring at the innermost circle like something was there.

After a moment, Clint realized that everyone was staring at him pointedly. "Okay, okay! But if I get burned, I'm suing you."

Clint didn't get burned, but Steve suspected that was more because he was as stretched out as possible and behind the stone as he lit it.

Instead of the fire jumping back to the first one Steve had lit, it jumped inwards to one of the stones in the second circle.

"Oh," Steve said, realization striking him.

" _Oh_ ," Peggy said, looking rather like she wanted to hit herself.

Natasha said something that sounded incredibly crass in Russian that had Loki looking reluctantly impressed.

"So, we went through summoning a bunch of monsters for nothing?" Clint seemed like he wanted to throw the torch at the nearest stone and call it a day.

"It might not be right," Steve said, though he was pretty sure they were on the right track this time.

"Let's keep moving," Peggy urged.

Steve moved inwards to continue lighting the stones. Every time a stone caught fire and nothing happened, his breath came a little easier even as the tension amped up. He had no idea what would happen once he lit the last stone, but he hoped that it meant the end of their journey.

Instead, all that happened was that the fires burning in the stones flared brightly, hissed and sparked threateningly, and a dark hole appeared in the middle of the innermost circle, the stones melting away. There was nothing but blackness inside it.

Steve wasn't too sure he wanted to look into it. The dark kind of seemed like it had teeth.

"If there's a Devil's Snare down there," Clint said after a few seconds, "I'm not going to be Ron."

"I have a flare gun," Natasha said thoughtfully.

"So do I," Peggy agreed, coming to a step next to Steve to look down the black hole. "Is there a ladder?"

"I think we are expected to jump," Loki said, studying the hole.

"Into the abyss," Clint drawled, hovering several feet behind Steve. "Nice." His voice wavered slightly.

Steve took a deep breath. "Nothing else to it," he muttered, and stepped forward.

The blackness seemed absolute, even on the way down. There was a brief moment of panic where Steve was free-falling, no hint as to how far down the ground might be, and then he hit the bottom with a force that knocked the breath out of him.

Steve groaned and rolled over, squinting up. He knew, logically, that he was staring up at the way he'd come, but there was nothing but black.

"Steve, you fucking idiot!" And the furious voices of his friends.

"I'm fine!" he shouted, then wondered if they could even hear him. If light couldn't make it down to wherever he was…

There was another shout, this one less clear, and then Peggy hit the ground next to him, managing to roll and absorb the impact better than Steve had. The first thing she did was hit him on the head.

"Ow! Peggy—"

"You're an idiot," she said. "What if this had been a trap?"

"Loki said we would have to jump," Steve protested.

"And he's the final authority on this?" Peggy snapped.

There was a whoosh of air above them, and Clint hit the ground hard. "Ow," he groaned. "Damn. We're lucky this isn't stone."

It was some sort of plant material. Steve might have said grass, but it was obviously meant to cushion the fall – not well, but enough that no one would die. Steve wondered whether the Trickster was trying to lay out a red herring by suddenly being so helpful.

Of course, the fire puzzle was hardly helpful.

Natasha landed on the other side of Steve, rolling in the same way Peggy had. Loki simply landed flat on his back, lying there for a second before accepting the hand Natasha offered to pull him up. "We are fortunate this was not a longer drop," he said.

Peggy squinted into the blackness stretching before them. "What's the purpose of this? I can't see a bloody thing."

"That might be the point," Clint muttered. "At least now I won't be blind _and_ deaf."

"This light makes no sense," Loki said. "We can see each other, but nothing else? This Trickster is much more powerful than I guessed."

"Funnily enough, I'd figured that out already." Natasha looked at Loki. "He did manage to bind your magic or whatever he did, right?"

Loki's mouth twisted. "Yes," he said stiffly. "It would be in our best interests to try and figure this puzzle out quickly."

He stepped towards the edge of the ring of grass or whatever it was, but the moment he did something changed.

A ring of lights formed, slowly brightening and growing smaller, as if they were lined up to a point where they were too far away to see. Blinking, Steve realized that they weren't lights – they were gemstones, reflecting some unknown or invisible light source. The new light showed what they had missed before: the stones were set into the walls of a tunnel, the floor and ceiling and sides. The tunnel curved almost right after the opening, preventing them from seeing what lay down it.

"You know," Peggy said after a moment, "if I didn't know that going in that wasn't going to result in some sort of fresh horror, I'd compliment the Trickster on his style."

It was beautiful, in a way, Steve admitted to himself. But he couldn't help be put off by the tunnel. It was as if a sixth sense was telling him that nothing good lay down it, that there was something dangerous.

What other way did they have, though?

"Guess that's our way out," he said.

"Lead on then, Cap," Clint said, sounding about as happy as Steve felt.

* * *

The rounded tunnel twisted and turned but didn't diverge once, leaving them no choices as to their path. Sometimes the surface of it changed, rock bulging down from the ceiling or the sides so that they were forced to squeeze past. Natasha, who was one of their smallest, had trouble fitting through some of the narrow passages. The gems glimmered the whole time, winking in the light source with greens and blues and reds and occasional flashes of white.

It might have been the almost sterile white light that made Steve feel so off-balance. The stones were so shiny that when whatever light source they had moved, flat surfaces were temporarily transformed into miniature suns, or at least that was what it seemed like in such a dim place.

"Please tell me I'm not the only one who thinks this place is creepy," Peggy murmured as they rounded yet another bend.

Steve glanced down at her. "No, I feel it, too."

"What do you think?"

Steve's mouth flattened, but he answered honestly, "I think the Trickster's got something bigger in store."

"This is the calm before the storm, you mean?" Peggy glanced at the wall full of everything from emeralds to gems Steve couldn't even begin to name. "It may be pretty, but just because something _looks_ nice doesn't mean it is."

In Steve's experience, it had been the other way around a lot of the time.

"Another puzzle, do you think?" Peggy kept up with Steve easily, despite the difference in their stride length.

"Maybe." It wasn't the Trickster's style to repeat things, but he _had_ given them monsters they'd already encountered while they tried to finish the fire puzzle. "How many more of these things do you think we'll have to do?"

Peggy sighed. "Going from what we've seen of the Trickster," she said, "most likely until he's satisfied himself that we've passed whatever arbitrary test we're supposed to be taking."

"So, not anytime soon."

"Probably not." Peggy was quiet for several moments. "I suppose he's not really limited to those who he thinks deserve it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I hardly think any of us deserve any of this." Peggy gestured vaguely at their surroundings. "None of us have done anything horrible or unfounded enough to attract his attention. He only did this when we got in his way."

"So people who 'deserve' it, and people he doesn't like?"

"He seems like someone who protects his own interests first." Peggy paused for another moment, then continued. "It doesn't bode well for our chances of getting him to cooperate with merging with Tony."

Steve looked away. "I guess not," he said reluctantly.

"Well, we can't _threaten_ him into doing it. He _is_ still Tony, however much of a jackass he is." Peggy looked frustrated.

Pressing his lips together, Steve nodded in agreement. They couldn't afford to hurt the Trickster, no matter what he put them through. Even though, at this point, Steve kind of wanted to deck him.

Or at least do something somewhat violent to his person.

"I do know that look," Peggy said. "I don't think he'll do well with punching."

"I wasn't going to punch him."

"No," Natasha said on Steve's other side. "That's definitely his 'I'm gonna punch someone' face."

Steve schooled his face to something he hoped was slightly less murderous.

"You just look constipated," Peggy told him, patting his arm sympathetically. "It's okay. I feel the same way."

"Constipated?"

"Like punching him," Peggy answered cheerfully, a dangerous twinkle in her eye. Steve had seen it before during the first time he'd laid eyes on her, right before she decked the private who'd made fun of her.

"I'd ram an arrow through his eye," Clint said from behind them, "but I don't think that'd be well received."

"Perhaps we should save the murderous thoughts for after we pass this test?" Loki suggested. "I doubt he will be so inclined to be lenient if he heard what you were planning on doing to his person."

"What makes you think he's going to be lenient at _all_?" Clint asked incredulously. "A sphinx almost ate me! A _sphinx_!"

"Please, Clinton. You face more dangerous things in that city you like to call the Big Apple."

"Yeah, but at least they're not trying to _eat_ me."

"That's true," Natasha said. "There's a fine difference between being on something's menu or being murdered."

"Exactly!"

Loki heaved a long-suffering sigh. "I fail to understand humans."

"I thought the sewer system tried to eat you at some point," Peggy said after a moment. "It seemed rather hungry."

Wincing at the memory of that particular fight that had led to Tony and Gadreel both digging out the source of the sewer system's sudden sentience, Steve resolved to take a long bath once this was over. Or a shower.

After he ate.

The gem-filled tunnel didn't grow any less ominous as they continued walking down it. And at some points, Steve swore he heard _music_ , the ominous kind of music that usually preceded a horrible monster chasing a screaming blonde woman.

"If a monster suddenly jumps me, I'm done," Clint said after the third time Steve thought he heard music.

"We are not done until _he_ thinks we are," Loki said wearily.

There was a smacking noise that was probably Clint punching Loki in the shoulder. "Leave me to my delusions."

The silence they fell into was uncomfortable, broken only periodically by that creepy music that had Steve swearing off horror movies.

The tunnel sloped abruptly downwards, and they had to brace themselves on the walls. The gems embedded in the floor helped illuminate the rough ground, making it easier for them to see what they were stepping on.

Still, Steve kept most of his focus on his feet, taking care not to slip or stumble over a gem. So when the tunnel leveled out again, Steve didn't immediately see what had Loki muttering a foreign curse under his breath.

Then he looked up, and promptly gave his own curse.

"Christ," Clint said along with several much worse phrases, kicking the wall. "This is getting ridiculous."

It was an enormous cavern, the roof so high above their heads that Steve couldn't even see it at all, only the faint twinkling of gems that were embedded in the rock. It was difficult enough seeing the walls of the cavern, much less the other side.

The one thing that was immediately apparent was the smooth, square tiles laid out on the ground before them, each with different designs drawn on them. From this distance, Steve couldn't be quite sure what they were, other than intricate and probably important.

They were standing on a ledge running along the wall. There was a rocky pathway leading down to the tiled floor, which eventually smoothed out to something resembling marble that ran alongside the edges of the tiles.

"This is just another puzzle," Steve said after a moment, trying to inject some cheer into his voice. "We can do this." He resisted the urge to say "go, team."

"I don't want to fight any more giant sphinxes," Clint complained. "I've had enough."

"I doubt he would repeat such a thing," Loki said, pressing forward so that he could take a closer look at the newest puzzle they were facing.

"No monsters at all, then?" Clint sounded hopeful.

"Doubtlessly something much worse," Loki assured him, not even bothering to look back to see the horrified face Clint was making.

"Loki." Natasha gave him a disapproving glare, which went unseen as Loki didn't turn around.

"There is no use in lying," Loki pointed out, scuffing a nearby gem with his shoe. He paused when the gem seemed to shift with the movement, actually budging from its seemingly immovable position in the rock. Bending down, Loki pulled the gem out, turning it around to more carefully inspect it.

"Curious," he said eventually, looking back at Steve with a raised eyebrow. "I suspect we might need to use these."

"For what?"

Loki didn't answer immediately, looking out at the sea of tiles. He pitched the gem over the edge so it landed on one in-between two of the smaller ledges that stuck out onto the main floor.

The tiles seemed to spin, the weight of the small gem making them tip and vanish. It had landed on a crack between two tiles, and both vanished, revealing another yawning darkness. Steve didn't want to know what was down that hole, but he didn't think it was anything good.

"Great," Natasha sighed. "We can't step on them."

"There are doors on the other end," Loki said, still staring intently out at the room. "I assume we are meant to make our way across."

Steve peered into the dimly lit chamber, but he could barely make out the pinpricks of light on the other wall that must have been whatever doors Loki was seeing.

"But if we can't step on them…" He didn't finish the sentence, looking down at the tiles and the strange designs on them. There was almost a pattern…

"He would not design an impossible puzzle," Loki reminded him. "There is no fun in such a thing." He pried out some more gems from the wall, putting them in his pockets. "I would do the same if I were you," he advised, turning and walking down the rocky path.

For a moment Steve considered calling him back so they could make a plan, but then he realized that it would just be a waste of time. They had no idea what the Trickster had concocted this time, and he couldn't make a plan working off zero information.

Besides, Loki seemed to have a rough idea of what they were working with…

Once their pockets were filled with gems, they joined Loki at the edges of the tile puzzle, far away enough from the tiles that Loki had tested the first gem with.

Steve _really_ didn't want to know what was down that hole.

"We just throw gems around?" Clint asked, anxiously fiddling with a purple one he had pulled free from the wall.

"Carefully," Loki said, putting up a hand to forestall Clint from doing anything impulsive. "Let me see what we are dealing with."

"I assume there's another pattern," Natasha said, studying the tile closest to her. From where Steve was standing, it looked a bit like an octopus trying to eat its legs.

"Puzzles are patterns," Loki said. "The question is what _kind_ of pattern. And the trick is avoiding the traps." He gestured to the bottomless pit to their right.

"The designs repeat," Peggy said, squinting slightly as she looked off into the distance. "It's like a path."

"You're right," Clint confirmed. "I can see several different paths with the same designs."

"Hm…" Pulling out another gem, Loki dropped it on a tile directly in front of his feet. The design was of a tree surrounded by vines – which seemed innocuous enough to Steve – but the instant the gem touched it, it and the tiles surrounding it shimmered and became gelatinous goop that gave off a sizzling sound. The gem seemed to dissolve into it. Steve didn't want to know what it might do to a person.

"Pressure plates," Loki observed, eyes flickering over the tiles in front of them. "Some are safe, and some are…" He glanced at the gaping hole from before. "Not."

"We use the gems to test it out?" Steve asked, thinking he'd need a lot more gems to make his way across this puzzle.

"I would not advise it," Loki said. "Setting off the traps also decreases the amount of space we have to work with."

"So which ones are safe?" Peggy eyed the goop with distrust.

"Think like the Trickster," Natasha suggested.

"Yes, because we all like to pass judgment onto people who do bad things," Peggy said dryly. "He isn't quite _human_ either."

"Doesn't matter," Natasha said, sharing a look with Loki. "It's all about the right mindset. Given enough data, you can get into anyone's head."

"You have enough?" Loki asked, eyebrow arched curiously.

Natasha's smile was assured. "I do. Besides, I have you."

It took Steve a moment to realize what she meant by that. Loki didn't seem at all phased about being compared to the Trickster.

"Yes, point." Loki walked a short distance away, studying the tiles as he went. "The designs that seem innocent are most likely unsafe."

"So if I see a design that's an evil-looking dog, it's good?" Clint asked.

"If there were such a design, it probably would be, yes."

Looking around, Steve saw a design that looked suitably evil enough to be safe. It was also the symbol for HYDRA.

"Now that's irony," Peggy said, having seen the same design.

"I'll take it," Steve said.

Shrugging, Peggy picked out another design relatively close to Steve's. "I'll take this one." It was one of what looked like an erupting volcano with people set on fire at its base, except the "people" were small dots with little sticks to the side that were probably their arms.

"That's probably safe," Steve agreed, looking away before the horrible art peeved him anymore than it already did.

It took another few minutes for Natasha and Clint to find suitably safe starting positions, and they were closer to Loki than Steve or Peggy. Loki was in the middle of them, and he took the first step onto the puzzle.

Although Steve trusted Loki's judgment, he couldn't help but let out a relieved breath when nothing happened. As Loki continued moving from tile to tile, Steve grew relatively confident that they had the knack of it, stepping on his own.

The tiles were relatively large, allowing him enough room to move around without worrying about stepping on another that would set off a trap. He could also stop and see where he needed to go next.

The HYDRA design was pretty similar to the one of the octopus eating its legs, and Steve wasn't sure if that was on accident or purpose.

Probably on purpose, especially since most of the tiles surrounding his chosen path seemed to be that of the octopus eating its legs.

"Be careful," Loki said several minutes into them picking their way across the tiles. "There are several dead ends."

"You don't think we can backtrack?" Clint called, stopping in his tracks.

"I doubt it." Loki seemed confident enough as he moved to the side, but Steve could see the way his hands were curled into fists. "In any case, I would rather not chance it."

With this warning in mind, Steve cast a doubtful look at the next few tiles he had picked out, wondering if he should instead try and go a bit to the side.

"I think you're good," Peggy reassured him, also having stopped. "As far as I can tell, there's no dead end for you."

Relieved, Steve tried to check on Peggy's path, looking as far ahead as he could and mapping out the different potential paths she had.

Off to the side, Steve could hear Natasha and Clint conferring. Loki called back some advice from where he was standing, as he had gotten further along than any of them, his keen eyesight and sense for magic better suited for avoiding possible dead ends and deadly traps.

"You'll have to move a bit to the left," Steve said after a moment.

Taking in a visibly shaky breath, Peggy nodded. "Okay."

* * *

The doors to the workshop slid open smoothly, the hiss making Gabriel look up. He only vaguely recognized them as being Tony's friends – and his as well, by extension. Someone must have told them that he was there, because neither of them looked surprised to see him working with the holographs and Tony sprawled on the cot.

"You're Gabriel, right?" The taller, dark-skinned one (Rhodey, Gabriel thought his name was) asked.

"Yes." Gabriel wondered what they had come down into the shop for. "If you're looking for Tony, he fell asleep several hours ago."

The ginger one (Pepper) glanced over at the cot. "I can see that." She placed a thick bundle in a yellowish folder on one of the tables. "I just wanted to talk to him about the company, but it can wait."

Gabriel tilted his head. "Business is rather important, isn't it?"

"Not more important than him actually getting some rest." Rhodey inclined his head towards the sleeping human. "I've been fielding calls from the others about that."

"Namely me," Pepper said. "It's just good to see him sleeping."

"You're referring to the nightmares." Gabriel wondered who had told them. It had been Jarvis who had given him the details Tony had failed to, but he still didn't see the point the man had been attempting to make.

Pepper frowned, lips pinching together. "Of course you know about them."

"Any chance you'd tell us?" Rhodey raised his eyebrows inquiringly. "You know, for solidarity's sake…"

There was a reason he hadn't told them… Gabriel couldn't quite remember why, but it had to be a good one. "It isn't my place."

"Bullshit," Rhodey said, not flinching away from Gabriel's penetrating stare. "You're him, so I'd say that automatically qualifies you to tell us."

"I am not." Gabriel would have left it at that if it wasn't for the confused expressions on their faces. "I am not him," he added, collapsing a holograph and discarding it. "Not really."

"Is this that same shit as last time when you couldn't remember anything and you were moping around all over the place wondering why you had a bunch of superheroes living with you?" Rhodey didn't look impressed.

Gabriel had absolutely no idea to what Rhodey was referring to, but it wasn't important. "That isn't what I meant." He met the man's gaze steadily. "Together, we are the same person. But we are apart at the moment. That makes us different – that _is_ why we were separated in the first place, correct? This _machine_ "—he indicated the metal contraption taking up most of the other half of the room—"was designed to do exactly that. It took the different parts of us and made us separate. I am not _Tony_ – I am not the one currently suffering from this problem. Therefore, I hardly think it is my right to speak of it without asking him."

"He has you there," Pepper told Rhodey, elbowing him in the side. She looked back at Gabriel, smiling gently. "It's all right. We'll just ask him once he's pulled himself together. Again."

"I swear, some day we are going to have a _normal_ problem to deal with," Rhodey said. "Not this 'I've got amnesia after smiting a bunch of ugly monsters' or 'I was split into four because of this whacko machine created by a dictator.' No, one day it's going to be 'I forgot to get the ham.'"

"He doesn't go shopping," Pepper pointed out.

Rhodey gave her a long-suffering look. "Maybe he decided to go shopping."

"For what? Lollipops?"

"The man eats something other than candy, Pepper."

"I've only seen him eat sweets. He ate an entire box of Hershey's candies one afternoon."

The doors behind them opened, letting in Bruce and Jarvis. Bruce seemed rather confused to run into Pepper and Rhodey arguing about how many sweets Tony ate.

"If I may interject," Jarvis said pleasantly, "he is far more likely to have forgotten to turn off the blowtorch."

"Oh yeah…" Bruce tilted his head. "There was that thing with the fire extinguisher then, right?"

"There was foam _everywhere_." Pepper looked distressed just remembering it.

As relaxed as the conversation was, Gabriel could not see himself in this man they were speaking of. It didn't make sense.

What use did he have for candy if he had no need for sustenance?

Jarvis caught his eye. "The others will be here soon," he said. "They are rather eager to meet you."

"I was under the impression we knew each other already. From your side of things at least," Gabriel replied.

"It's not really the same," Bruce said. "You being so…different and all."

"My not being exactly as you remember?"

"Something like that." Jarvis glanced at the sleeping Tony. "Perhaps we should go elsewhere… I wouldn't want to disturb him."

"It's fine," Gabriel said. "He won't wake." However uncomfortable he was around the people Tony had surrounded himself with, Gabriel would not let him suffer nightmares that no human should have to experience.

"…You're aware of how creepy that sounds, right?" Rhodey asked after a moment in which everyone stared at Gabriel passed.

Gabriel tilted his head, confused. "Humans require sleep. He would have fallen asleep no matter what; I have merely been ensuring that he is able to stay that way." Humans needed sleep so that they could function properly, unless Gabriel was misremembering something. Doubtful, but with the rest of his memories the way they were…

No, he still remembered _those_ things perfectly well. Perhaps it was some sort of social infraction?

"And I'm sure he appreciates it," Rhodey said after another moment of pinched silence. "Really. Lord knows – I mean…" He cleared his throat, waving his hands around. " _Who_ knows when he's been getting sleep!"

Gabriel's head remained slightly cocked. He eyed Rhodey curiously. "You can speak His name."

"Really?" Bruce sounded fascinated. "What about that whole 'you shall not take His name in vain' thing?"

"That refers to not using it to justify your own desires," Gabriel informed him. "It's merely out of respect that people tell others not to use it as a curse."

Pepper nodded. "I think you said before that half of the Bible can be thrown out because of mistranslations and the scribe not hearing you."

"Yes…" That had been a rather…irritating job. Even if it was his duty as the Messenger. Unfortunately, even the chosen sometimes didn't understand an angel's voice.

"I still wonder…" Jarvis folded his arms across his chest, seeming rather like he was desperately trying not to reveal how curious he was. "You had said that when the Bible refers to 'stoning,' you had meant the – and I quote – 'the happy kind of stoning.'"

Gabriel paused. "That…still exists, does it not?" He'd thought the women in question deserved _something_ nice if their husbands were cruel enough for them to want a divorce.

"So it is true?" Jarvis looked rather relieved for some reason.

"Good to know you had a sense of humor. Have, I mean," Rhodey amended hastily.

What was humorous about it?

Tony's friends evidently read the confusion on his face, as Bruce stepped forward and quickly pushed a tablet towards him, clearly trying to change the subject to something more neutral. "Figure anything out about the machine?"

Looking down at the tablet, Gabriel found much of the same information that he had already covered before with the holographs. "Perhaps. Whoever built this had a clear purpose in mind."

"Duplicating himself, you mean?" Rhodey asked.

"I cannot say, but I would think so." Gabriel handed the tablet back to Bruce. "It was the end result."

"True," Bruce agreed, sighing. "It would be strange for a genius of Doom's caliber to build a machine that wouldn't do what it's supposed to."

"And by that I hope you mean not strange at all?" Rhodey sounded skeptical. "I admit the man's brilliant, but he's also done a lot of crazily stupid things in the name of beating out Reed."

Gabriel assumed that this "Reed" was a person and not an actual reed. Names had changed a great deal from what he last remembered, as no one would even have dreamed of naming children "Pepper" during the period he last remembered humanity.

Turning his back to the others, Gabriel focused on pulling up the rest of the information he had managed to compile on the machine, as well as the energy traces he had been able to sense. Most of it was old information that Bruce had doubtlessly already read before, but Gabriel had been able to add to it with the few vague impressions he could remember from the period right before he had abruptly found himself in a strange room with an iron suit standing motionless to the side and three other people looking exactly like him in the same room.

Breathing softly, Gabriel felt the strange presence that was JARVIS's/Jarvis's soul brush along the edges of his awareness as the artificial intelligence (as Tony had described him) took his information and transmitted it to Bruce's tablet. He still wasn't quite sure it was the right choice to leave these new souls alone, but evidently he had thought so before.

A great many things made no sense at the moment.

Gabriel heard James's voice join the others already in the room, but as they were simply discussing the data Bruce had on his tablet, he refocused on putting together some more information on the machine. Figuring out its base components was beyond him at the moment, but he could certainly help on other fronts while Gadreel was busy.

Gadreel-

There was a pitter-pattering of small feet against tiled floor, then a loud shriek of "DAD!"

It was-

 _Freezing and_

 _he couldn't breathe_

 _couldn't scream_

 _Nothing_

 _made_

 _se_

 _nse_

 _He-_

* * *

The only warning they got after Sam burst in was a split-second where Gabriel froze, eyes widening.

Then half the stuff in the room exploded.

Rhodey automatically ducked, pulling Pepper down with him, reflexes from years of experience in battle zones taking over. The noise was like a thousand glass windows being smashed at the same time.

From the amount of glass on the floor, Rhodey guessed that something like that had just happened.

The shattering noise was replaced with a ringing silence. Rhodey cautiously lifted his head, grimacing when he saw what had happened. The workshop was practically wrecked; the glass paneling near the doors was flat-out _gone,_ glass covering the floor on both sides. Bruce's tablet had fallen to the floor, the screen a mess of cracks. His glasses, also fallen, were in a similar state.

"Rhodey," Pepper said, "you're squishing me."

"Sorry." Rhodey stood, allowing Pepper to do the same.

She sucked in a breath when she saw what had happened. " _Crap_."

"Sam, please don't move. You might step on something," Jarvis said quietly, picking his way across the mess. Sam was standing where she'd been before Gabriel did – _whatever_ the hell he'd done. She looked petrified, wrapping her arms around Jarvis when he picked her up and burying her face in his shoulder.

"Anyone hurt?" Rhodey questioned, and Jarvis shook his head.

Bruce was wincing. "Are anyone else's ears ringing?"

"What the he—" Pepper seemed to remember that Sam was there. "—eeeck was _that?_ "

"That's what I'd like to know," Rhodey muttered.

* * *

It was later, when most of the mess had been cleaned (or moved into easy-to-avoid-we'll-trash-it-later piles) that Tony finally woke up.

"Whoa." Rhodey turned around sharply, seeing Tony propping himself up on his forearms and staring at the room. "The hell did I miss?"

Rhodey briefly considered trying to explain it. "Hell if I know," he said finally, deciding to be as succinct as possible. "Gabriel freaked."

" _Gabriel_ did?" Tony surveyed the room again, looking surprised. "That explains why it looks like a bomb went off."

"You didn't hear it?" Rhodey wasn't even sure _what_ he'd heard, except that it had been awfully loud and left his ears ringing for ages afterward. But it must have been loud enough to wake Tony up.

"I was sleeping." Tony seemed to realize this was a strange excuse given that something that did this much damage would have woken him up with the noise, as he just shrugged in response to the stares Rhodey and Pepper gave him. "Where's Gabriel, if he's responsible for this mess?"

"No idea." Rhodey told him. "He just vanished."

Tony frowned, swinging his legs off the cot and standing up. "Do you know what freaked him out?"

Rhodey was about to say that he had absolutely no idea, that it had happened out of the blue, before he realized that yes, he _did_ know. Gabriel had been completely fine during their entire conversation, if a bit stiff. It hadn't been until…

Samael.

Gabriel had freaked out when Samael had run in.

But Samael was a _child_. Why would Gabriel be scared of a child?

"Rhodey?" Tony was looking at him for an answer, which Rhodey wasn't sure he wanted to give. Not with Sam still in the room.

Jarvis seemed far too shifty-eyed to _not_ know what had really happened, but this wasn't the time for Rhodey to chew him out. Not with Sam still trembling in his arms.

"Sam," Rhodey said finally, reluctant. "But I'm not sure," he added.

There was a split-second of confusion before Tony seemed to understand something Rhodey didn't, his eyes flickering over to Sam. "Ah." Taking a breath, he moved towards Jarvis, the glass they hadn't been able to clean up splintering into smaller pieces under his shoes. "Sam…"

Sam shook her head, burying deeper into Jarvis's arms.

A pained expression crossed Tony's face, although there was no sign of it in his voice. "C'mon, Sammy… It's all right." He reached out to touch Sam's back, rubbing soothing circles over it.

It was a while before Sam said quietly, "I scared you."

"No, you didn't." Tony's voice was just as soft. "It's just…" He looked up at the ceiling, almost seeming to pray for a second. "Gabriel has some issues."

"You were a tad loud, I think," Jarvis added, bouncing Sam slightly.

"You don't get scared," Sam mumbled, peeking at Tony with one eye.

Tony chuckled, grinning. "Last I checked, I do have emotions. I get scared, sweetheart."

"So…he's not mad at me?" Sam turned more fully to look at Tony, eyes pleading.

"No." Tony rubbed her arm comfortingly. "But I think we should give him a little bit of time. He'll come back."

At this point, Rhodey wasn't quite sure he _wanted_ Gabriel to come back. Having a volatile archangel on the premises wasn't exactly a smart idea, especially since they had no idea what had set him off to begin with.

Rhodey knew Tony, and he also knew when Tony was hiding something.

Plus, Jarvis had an absolutely awful poker face.


	7. Chapter 7

A few hours later, once they had managed to clear out all the dangerous glass bits and machinery and Sam had been suitably calmed down and reassured, Rhodey hunted down Jarvis in the kitchen to demand answers.

"You know what that was about," Rhodey said, arms folded across his chest.

Jarvis didn't move beyond his hands tightening on the edge of the countertop. "…Yes." The word was so quiet that Rhodey almost didn't hear it.

When no further elaboration was forthcoming, Rhodey spoke again. "What _was_ that?"

Shaking his head, Jarvis didn't meet Rhodey's eyes. "I can't say."

"Don't give me that, Jarvis." Rhodey kept himself forcefully still, not wanting to bully Jarvis into talking. But damn if a little shaking wouldn't make him feel better at the moment. Anything was better than this helpless feeling. "I've known Tony for a _long_ time, and he doesn't scare easily. _Gabriel_ doesn't scare easily. That means it's something big."

"I _cannot_ say," Jarvis repeated, this time more forcefully. He met Rhodey's eyes. "It isn't my place. If you want answers, you will need to ask him."

"Except I can't, since he doesn't remember. So I'm asking _you_."

"I think he does." The corners of Jarvis's mouth turned downwards, his eyes dropping to his feet. "It would explain his nightmares."

"I don't, actually," Tony's voice said from behind Rhodey.

Surprised, Rhodey turned to find the other four standing there. The kids were nowhere to be seen, thankfully.

"I mean…" Tony took a breath, continuing steadily. "I've had dreams, but I don't really remember what about. And I – I'm not sure I _want_ to know, but I think I need to."

"This is about what happened while you were gone, isn't it?" Pepper asked. She raised her eyebrow in response to the surprised look Tony shot her. "What, you think I didn't notice the way you changed?"

"We just didn't want to ask," Rhodey said, drawing Tony's attention back to himself. "We thought you'd talk to us."

"It…wasn't really something I wanted to talk about," Tony said slowly, his forehead pinching. "And Gabriel…he said it wasn't something for humans to know."

"Loki knows," Bruce said, frowning slightly. "He didn't want to tell me either."

"It isn't my place," Jarvis said, almost helplessly. "Sir…"

"It's okay." Tony gave him a lopsided smile that was painful to look at. He shrugged lightly, adding, "As one-fourths of me, I'm saying it's okay."

Before Rhodey could do anything, Pepper punched Tony on the shoulder. "Don't joke about this!"

Rubbing his shoulder, Tony made a face. "Who said I'm joking?" Sobering, he nodded at Jarvis. "J, seriously."

Jarvis hesitated, then nodded, however reluctantly. He looked down at his hands. "I'm…not sure where to start."

"From the beginning's generally a good place," James said dryly.

"Yes, well…that would be a rather long story." Jarvis looked briefly up at the ceiling before meeting Tony's eyes. "From what I understood, the gates to Heaven were closed. You managed to reopen them, but in the process of doing so, you ended up in something they called the Cage."

If Rhodey hadn't been watching Tony, he would have missed the almost imperceptible flinch at the name. "Sounds ominous," he said, moving close enough to let one hand rest on Tony's shoulder in silent comfort.

"It sounds like a prison," James corrected him, eyes fixed on Jarvis. The latter didn't immediately continue.

"It was," Jarvis said eventually, mouth twisting. "It was Lucifer's prison."

Rhodey heard Pepper breathe in sharply. He doubted any of them liked hearing that any more than he did. _Lucifer's_ prison?

How bad might that have been?

" And you…you fell into it." Jarvis looked away, eyes falling to the table. He was looking anywhere but at Tony. "We didn't know what to do, but Gadreel eventually went to pull you out. We waited for a month."

There was something there that Jarvis wasn't saying, but this looked painful enough that Rhodey didn't really want to push for more.

"I am not entirely certain of the details, as Gadreel never told us exactly what happened, but when you returned…when you were back with us…" Shaking his head, Jarvis folded his hands together. "Something had happened."

Tony's face was rather white, and Rhodey could feel him shaking minutely. "That's…" His voice cracked, dying on a whisper. He touched his throat, fingers trembling.

"You couldn't speak," Jarvis said, answering the unspoken question hanging in the air. "Not at first." Exhaling shakily, he continued. "In pulling you out, Gadreel inadvertently broke the Cage, letting Lucifer and Michael out. We had to…deal with them. Again, I am not entirely certain what happened, but when it was over…" Jarvis glanced up for only a moment. "You had Samael."

"So, Sam is…?" Rhodey couldn't finish the sentence. He had suspected it after what Tony had told them of the four archangels, but he hadn't really _known_. Besides, how would that even have been possible?

"Yes," Jarvis said quietly.

"Gabriel knows," Tony said after a moment, his voice pained. "And that's why…" His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was stronger. "That's why he freaked."

"Why now?" Pepper had her hands wrapped around Tony's. "This didn't bother you before."

Tony shook his head. "I don't know."

When Rhodey glanced at Jarvis, the other looked just as uncertain.

"So I guess this means we need to keep Sam and Gabriel apart," James said when no one else spoke. "If he comes back."

"He will," Tony said. "I don't know when, but he will."

"Yeah, well…" Rhodey squeezed Tony's shoulder one more time before letting his hand drop. "Let's hope he's not as likely to explode things."

Rhodey had wanted to know what was wrong, but now that he did…he had absolutely no idea what to do.

He understood why Jarvis hadn't wanted to tell them.

* * *

The first part of the puzzle went smoothly enough.

There were a few close calls where Steve _nearly_ stepped on the wrong one, and one incident where Clint's foot got a little too close to the edge of his tile and he somehow managed to set off one of the traps. Jumping quickly to the next one in the path had been the only thing that got him out of the way in time. A few other minor traps had been set off when they had to test tiles to guess which was the right one, but nothing incredibly dangerous.

Most importantly, nothing that hurt any of them, as long as they went around it.

As they'd made their way across the room, Steve could make out more details, including the doors that only Loki had been able to see earlier.

They were tall and lit from behind, yellow shapes in the dim light of the room. They provided most of the light, and from what Steve could tell the puzzle they were walking across was made of some brownish stone that looked almost orange. He was concentrating mostly on getting to the right tile and making sure he didn't end up in a dead end, but he couldn't help noticing all the _detail._

The majority of the designs were hardly a work of genius – the Trickster, it seemed, was no more of an artist than Tony was – but the tiles themselves were perfectly shaped, and there were tall, smooth pillars bordering the door. Steve was sure that they'd find torches providing the light once they crossed the threshold.

If the Trickster was _anything,_ it was theatrical.

At least the amount of attention he must have been putting into this meant that it was incredibly unlikely he'd skimp out on talking to them.

"Go to your left, Steve, this one runs out up here." Peggy had gotten further along than he had, which meant that Steve got an early warning for any dead ends. He picked out the HYDRA symbol and stepped to the one on the left, relaxing slightly when nothing happened.

He knew it was the safe tile, but he couldn't help but be nervous.

They went on like that until most of them were close enough to touch the ledge that ran up to the door. It was more of a slope than the last one had been, steep enough that Steve wondered how much the Trickster was trying to actively discourage them.

The hill didn't manage to slow him down as Steve practically leapt off the last tile, darting up to where it leveled off just before the door. Now that he was in front of it, he realized just how _huge_ it was, reaching at least ten feet.

"Don't get too excited," Clint shouted after him. "The rest of us aren't as fast as you." Despite his words, Clint and Natasha were the next two off the tiles.

"I think I'd be perfectly okay with never doing this again," Natasha said, joining Steve and looking past him through the door. "What do you think's down there?"

"No idea."

Peggy strode up the incline towards them, looking relieved. "Well, none of us have died so far," she said cheerfully. "I'll take that as a good thing."

"Only Loki's left." Steve turned to see how Loki was doing, stopping short when he saw him standing perfectly still. "Loki?"

"I believe," Loki said, almost too calmly, "that the Trickster has been meddling."

Steve didn't need to ask for an explanation when he realized that Loki was standing four tiles away from the end with no more like the one he was standing on in sight.

They had avoided running into any dead ends so far, but now that they were so close – _so close_ – it had to happen?

He hadn't thought it would happen to Loki, with the way he could sense the magic of the place around them.

"Can you jump?" Natasha asked, voice low and even.

"Not from a standing position," Loki said, shifting almost anxiously. He eyed the ledge they were standing on, then glanced back at the tiles surrounding him.

"Can you try?" Clint crouched down, eyes scanning the tiles. "Not from a standstill," he added when Loki fixed him with a disgruntled expression, "but from a running jump? Just…" He gestured in explanation.

"If there's a time lag before the traps trigger, you can do it," Peggy said.

"There's not much of one," Steve said, remembering how quickly the traps had triggered when they had to test whether the tiles were safe.

Steve looked over the tile floor, vainly trying to find another one Loki could use, but all of the ones with the pattern Loki had picked – something that vaguely resembled a burning planet in the same way a child's drawing vaguely resembled a monster – were even farther away than the end of the puzzle was.

There was one option, however, that was possibly within reach.

"Loki," Steve called, "do you think you could make it to Natasha's path?"

The tiles Natasha had picked out weren't as far away as the ledge was, and they were also on level ground.

"Won't that just set off a trap?" Clint asked.

"You can _solve_ puzzles," Steve said tightly. "Even if the rules change, you can still solve them. It just means we need to change the rules ourselves."

Loki hummed thoughtfully, turning to see where he needed to go. "Yes…I think I can manage this."

He stepped backwards slightly, looking behind himself to make sure he didn't leave the tile, then took a running leap towards Natasha's path. Steve watched anxiously – there _was_ only one tile separating them—

Loki made it easily, landing in a crouch with plenty of space to spare. Steve let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd held.

Of course, with their luck, it had to go wrong.

Their first clue that something had was when the room began to shake.

Steve saw something black spreading across the floor. With a jolt, he realized the tiles were falling away, vanishing entire rows at a time. Loki was already running, making it onto the incline and crashing into the group.

" _Run_!"

They did.

Steve wasn't even paying attention to what it looked like beyond the door, because a glance behind him showed that whatever it was hadn't stopped with the tiles. Huge chunks of rock were falling away, and Steve had a feeling he didn't want to know what was down wherever they were falling.

None of them slowed down until they were past what might have been another door, tripped by some invisible force, and went sprawling as a group onto some soft surface.

Vaguely, Steve realized that they were surrounded by hedges – _again_ – but then a familiar and not altogether welcome face stuck itself into his line of sight.

"Well," said the Trickster, "so you did make it out. Honestly, you had me doubting there a couple times."

" _You_!" Clint was on his feet in seconds, but the Trickster just snapped his fingers and Clint froze.

"No need to be rude," the Trickster said mildly, rocking back on his heels. "We're all capable of being civil people here."

"I'm not so sure about that," Natasha muttered, noticeably more cautious when she stood. She didn't try to approach the Trickster, instead eyeing him warily.

Steve stood next, offering Peggy a hand up which she waved away. "Let him go," he told the Trickster. "He's not going to attack you."

The Trickster raised his eyebrows, looking at Clint skeptically. "Really. Seems _kinda_ murderous to me." He pinched his forefinger and thumb together. "Just a teensy bit."

"It isn't as if he could hurt you," Loki said, fixing the Trickster with a nasty look. "I doubt fists or arrows could kill you."

"Can you blame me for not wanting to get shot?" The Trickster gave Clint another look, as if he were trying to make a particularly important decision, before he shrugged and snapped his fingers again. Clint staggered as he was suddenly unfrozen.

"I'll give you a freebie," the Trickster told him, "Since your friends are so confident you'll keep your hands to yourself."

Clint gave him an almost impressively dark glare, hands clenching into fists.

Natasha put a hand on Clint's shoulder. "We passed your test," she said.

"Yes, you did." The Trickster laughed, then whistled as if in admiration. "'Bout a few days later than I thought you would, but I guess I can't be choosy."

Steve's stomach dropped. Several _days_? How long had they been here?

"We passed your test," Peggy said, repeating Natasha's words. "That means we're going to have a talk."

The Trickster spread his hands. "What are we doing now?" He was smirking, one eyebrow raised. "If you wanted something specific—" he paused mid-sentence. "Oh, right. Lemme guess – this is about the _rest_ of me."

Steve could already see that asking politely wasn't going to get them anywhere. It wasn't as if he had the patience for that anyway.

"Aren't you curious?" Natasha asked, voice coaxing. "I know you can't remember everything."

The Trickster scoffed. "So? I miss out on a bunch of pre-human stuff, maybe some Norse paganism, blah, blah. _I've_ got all the important stuff." He tapped at his head.

What did _that_ mean? How much did the Trickster remember?

"But how would you _know_?" Loki had his arms folded across his chest. "If you know you are missing memories, is it not possible that you are missing something important? You cannot be so prideful as to ignore that."

The Trickster rolled his eyes. "Who says it's pride?" He counted off on his fingers. "Heaven, boring. Norse paganism, not my style. Human, incredibly, _incredibly_ boring. Who cares about any of that?"

"And what of the present?" Loki challenged. "You must be aware that this is not where you were from."

"Again, _so?"_ This time the Trickster grinned wickedly. "The present's all mine. Personally, it being in another world is just a bonus – no other Tricksters here to get annoyed if I edge in on their territory, yeah? No other monsters 'cept me."

"There is me," Loki said softly.

The atmosphere changed in a second, suddenly loaded with restrained pressure, like a thunderstorm was brewing. Steve could practically see the metaphorical lightning crackling between Loki and the Trickster.

The latter tilted his head slightly, still smirking. "You," he agreed. "Why do you care, huh? This isn't your world. You could be a million miles away from this mess. But you're here. And for what, again? A few humans?"

"They are not my concern," Loki said, not even looking at Steve or any of the others. "However, _Gabriel_ is. And you are part of him, whether you like it or not."

"So you're to do what, exactly?" The Trickster didn't seem at all bothered. "Threaten me into cooperating? Good luck with that, Na'vi."

Loki flinched slightly. "You think that will change my mind?" The words were bitten out through gritted teeth.

"Even if it doesn't, it's funny." The Trickster clearly thought he had the upper hand. His smirk had gotten more pronounced.

"To you, maybe," Natasha said, unimpressed. "I suppose it was too much to hope for that you would be _reasonable_. Fun and games is all you're good for, isn't it?"

"You say that like it's a bad thing!" the Trickster said plaintively. "Oh, I'm such a horrible person for _enjoying_ myself here. Yadda yadda, do this, don't do that, you've got so many little _requirements_. Like no human's ever done something for fun?"

"We don't kill people," Steve snapped unthinkingly.

"Don't you?" The Trickster's gaze was suddenly, unnervingly, on Steve. It stayed there for a moment, before wandering to other people in the circle. "Maybe not you _specifically_ …not really. But _some_ of you…" He laughed. " _Well._ That's a whole 'nother story."

"It's not the same thing," Clint said, voice edged with venom.

"Nah, not really. _You_ kill on orders, after all." The Trickster's smile was equally poisonous. "And that's _so_ much better." He drew out the "o" mockingly.

"We're both part of the Avengers now," Natasha retorted. "That's not our job anymore."

"Oh, the _Avengers._ " The Trickster rolled his eyes. "Yeah, fantastic job with that. The name _alone,_ I can make at least ten jokes off the top of my head. How fuckin' pretentious do you have to be to put yourself in charge of protecting the whole damn Earth?"

"Because we're trying to do some _good._ " Steve couldn't believe that the being standing in front of him was part of Tony. "Because we're trying to _help_ the world, not kill the people in it."

"I only go after the ones who deserve it." The Trickster gave Steve a prideful look. "Logic says that means the good ones are the majority once I'm done."

"And you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart?" Clint scoffed.

"Oh, please." The Trickster grinned wildly. "I do it 'cause it's fun. And because they deserve it."

Steve's stomach felt like it had fallen to somewhere in the vicinity of his knees.

"I don't _believe_ you," Peggy said, her voice harsh and furious. "You don't bloody care at all, do you?"

"Took you a while to notice." The Trickster smirked back at her. "Give me a reason why I should."

"The only one who's saying those people deserve to die is _you_ ," Peggy snapped back. Her hands were fisted at her sides.

"What, like you don't agree?" Steve was _really_ starting to hate that smirk. "Let's face it. The only reason you're all so angry with me about this is because there's a little part of you reminding you that I'm _right._ And be _sides,_ I don't kill all of them. I left the first one alive."

"And terrified out of his wits," Loki said quietly, studying the Trickster with an intense look.

"Okay, nothing makes you happy, does it?" The Trickster affected a frustrated tone.

"It's useless," Clint said suddenly, fixing the Trickster with a disgusted look. "Debating this is pointless. He's not going to get it. He can't."

" _Can't's_ a strong word." The Trickster, despite his words, didn't look bothered. "What, exactly, am I supposed to be 'getting'? All I'm hearing is you getting pissy."

"You're not human," Clint said evenly. "And I don't mean that as an insult. Tony's gotten on my nerves more than once because he also just doesn't get it. I suppose you shouldn't be any different."

"I'm still blanking on what your point is, here." The Trickster raised his eyebrows.

"Need me – the boring, little _human_ – to spell it out for you?" Clint raised his eyebrows. "All right, then. You don't have a _conscience_. That little thing that tells us what's too far, what's right or wrong… You don't have one. And that's why you don't get it. You haven't got our morals, and you don't understand where we're coming from."

The Trickster laughed raucously. "You're kidding me, right? _Morals_? That's where you're going with this? Please tell me you're going to appeal to my humanity next. Or is that a no-go, since I don't have any?"

"Yep. Looks like you took the words _right_ out of my mouth." Clint turned away, looking to Natasha. "You're seeing the same thing, aren't you?"

"I admit," Loki said heavily, the words ponderous, "I see his point when it comes to his actions. There are some who would deserve such punishments."

The Trickster threw out an arm, pointing at Loki. " _Thank_ you. Finally, someone who can get past the whole 'oh, no, people are dying' shtick I get all the time."

"He isn't human either," Clint informed him, "so I don't think that earns you any brownie points."

"That said," Loki continued, shooting Clint a look that clearly said "be quiet or else," "I take offense with your attitude."

The look the Trickster gave him was pure disbelief. "You're joking, right?" he said, like he couldn't tell whether Loki was being sarcastic or not. "My _attitude_?"

"You do not go after these people out of some twisted sense of judgment," Loki said. "You do it because you find it humorous. You think it is _funny_ how they have their crimes turned around on them. _That_ is what I take issue with."

Steve let out a shaky breath at Loki's answer. He trusted Loki, but only so much. He'd made it pretty clear that his loyalties lay with Tony, so as long as they were working to help Tony…

At least he could be assured that Loki wouldn't hurt the Trickster.

"Twisted, huh?" the Trickster said wryly. "That's rich coming from you, if you're anything like what I know of the Loki from my universe."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Peggy demanded. "That Loki's you, too."

"Yeah, _he is._ " The Trickster's eyebrows had shot up again. "None of you have ever picked up a book of Norse mythology, have you?"

Steve had read something of Norse mythology, but the stories had been brief, meant for children. Judging from Peggy's face, her exposure had been similar.

"Reading myths is sort of redundant when you've got the actual gods living in the same tower as you," Clint said offhandedly, waving a dismissive hand.

"Depends how similar they are to each other." There was something in the Trickster's expression that Steve didn't like. "Ever heard of Baldur?"

Loki's expression didn't give Steve much of a clue as to what he was thinking, but he didn't look like he recognized the name.

"Sounds like a god," Clint said when no one else spoke.

For some reason, that made the Trickster grin wider. "Oh, he was," he laughed. "Do me a favor – next time you run into Loki, ask him about that."

"And why should we do anything you say?" Natasha asked, eyes narrowed as she watched the Trickster.

"I dunno, because now you're all curious why I want you to?" He grinned at her in a way that wasn't remotely friendly. "Since I'm guessing you know jack shit about what you're going up against, might be better to have _some_ advantage over him."

"Why are you telling us this?" Loki looked like he was trying not to show how confused he was. "The other Loki is _you._ Why would you work against him?"

The Trickster shrugged, making a face. "Why not? I'm not on his side. I'm not on anybody's side. Someone gives me an opportunity like that, I'm gonna take it."

"An opportunity to do what – cause trouble?" Peggy's mouth was a flat line.

"If you wanna put it bluntly." Did the Trickster ever stop grinning? "'Sides, I'm not working _against_ anyone. But hell, would I like to be a fly on the wall for _that_ conversation."

"Which you're not going to be," Steve said.

The Trickster shrugged again. "Think you could tell if I was?"

"Alright, enough of this," Clint said disgustedly. "We've been standing here and talking and getting _nothing_ done, and we're still in this stupid _maze_." He gestured angrily at the hedges. "You gonna take us back or not?"

For some reason, the Trickster seemed to find that hilarious, laughing aloud. " _Back_?" he managed through it, calming down slightly. He smirked, raised one hand, and snapped his fingers.

Their surroundings seemed to waver and melt away, and Steve stared at what they revealed.

"I can't take you back _anywhere_ ," the Trickster said, dropping down onto a park bench, "if you never _left_ in the first place."

"I call bullshit!" Clint pointed angrily at the Trickster. "What was all that, then?!"

"Induced mass hallucination?" Steve hoped the Trickster wasn't serious, but with him it was hard to tell. "A magician doesn't reveal his secrets."

"It was an illusion," Loki said, unimpressed. "I do recognize the type of magic that entails, even if it is unfamiliar in other ways."

The Trickster snorted, leaning back so his head was tilted up slightly, giving him a cocky look. "You want to know how I did it, don't you?"

Loki didn't immediately reply. "Your method is curious," he said finally,

"You mean how everything's real until it's gone?" The smirk had reappeared. "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies."

Loki had just stepped forward, mouth open to deliver a biting retort, when Gadreel arrived.

He looked furious – not like Steve had ever seen him before. The Trickster, on the other hand, bolted upright, smile suddenly gone.

"Oh, _shit_ no, I'm out." It seemed like he was gone before he even finished speaking.

Gadreel looked torn between going after the Trickster and checking on them, his eyes quickly scanning their bodies as if to make sure they were fine.

"I can go after him," Gadreel said, his voice vibrating with anger.

Sighing, Steve let his shoulders slump, tension he hadn't even realized was there leaving him. "I don't think it'll do any good."

"We don't have a way to contain him," Peggy said. "And he won't listen to us."

It took a moment, but Gadreel nodded in acceptance, some of the anger seeping out of his frame. "You seem unhurt."

"We are," Steve said at the same time Clint complained, "Yeah, but I'm _starving_."

It was true, actually. Steve's stomach was uncomfortably empty, having gotten to the point where it wasn't even sure if it was worth growling for attention. "Some food would be nice," he admitted.

"I vote for Thai," Natasha said. "Or pizza. I'm not picky."

"Let's go with both," Steve said, looking up at the naturally blue sky with a sense of relief. "And then we'll call the others and check in."

After the utter disaster that had been dealing with the Trickster, he hoped that they had made some progress.

* * *

Hours later, after Tony and Bruce had gone back to the workshop to try and see what could be salvaged from the mess Gabriel had created, Jarvis finally received a call from Steve.

Pepper had already been informed as to the situation where they were at, what the Trickster had done, so she had been rather startled when Jarvis had blinked, reached for a phone, and then turned it on speaker, letting Steve's voice be heard by everyone present.

"It is good to hear from you, Captain," Jarvis said, sounding relieved.

" _Gadreel checked in, didn't he?_ " Steve asked, sounding like he was eating something. " _Yeah, we're good here._ "

" _We are now!_ " Clint hollered from the background.

"Shall we expect you back anytime soon?" Jarvis asked.

"It would be nice to have some more backup," James said, stretched out on the comfiest couch the living room had to offer. "And to hear you're okay."

" _Yeah_ …" There was a weary sigh from Steve. " _I think we'll be back sometime within the next few hours if Gadreel's willing to give us a ride. I, for one, don't want to stay here longer than necessary._ "

" _Seconded,_ " Peggy said, sounding just as weary as Steve.

" _Thirded,_ " Clint said immediately after. " _That's a thing, right?_ "

Jarvis hesitated briefly before saying, "It didn't go well?"

Pepper was rather startled by the chorus of groans that erupted on the other end of the line, along with a disgusted snort that was probably Loki.

" _We'll tell you about it once we're back,_ " Steve assured them. " _It's kind of a long story._ "

"We have news, too," James said. "I'll let Bruce and Tony know what's up. They're still working on that machine."

" _They haven't figured it out yet?_ " Steve sounded disappointed. " _It's been a few days, so I just thought_ …"

"They are closer than they were before," Jarvis said reassuringly. "We did have some outside help for a time."

" _Oh?_ "

"We'll debrief once you're back," James said firmly. "You guys sound exhausted, and I can hear you eating something, Steve."

There was a guilty pause before Steve said, " _It's not like we had **food**._ "

Blinking, Pepper shared a disconcerted look with Rhodey, who also didn't seem to understand what Steve meant by that.

" _We ordered pizza and Thai,"_ Peggy said, sounding further away from the phone. " _Who knew they had pizza this good down here?_ "

" _I will get them back in one piece, James,_ " Gadreel said. " _Don't worry._ "

"I'm not," James said. "I've seen you in action. I'll see you later."

" _Seeya, Bucky._ "

Jarvis disconnected the phone call, leaving the mobile sitting on the table. "I admit I was worried," he said after a moment.

"I wasn't," James said offhandedly, "'cause I would've gone and kicked the Trickster's ass if he did anything."

"I doubt that would have done anything," Jarvis said dryly, "seeing as how Gadreel thought it better to wait."

"He could do a better job with checking in, couldn't he?" Rhodey asked. "He should've let you know what was going on when it happened."

"Let me tell you," James said, "that his sense of time is _screwed up_. I asked him if he'd be willing to look over something for me in the next day. He shows up a _week_ later and asks if he can do it. I'd given up and asked Tony."

"He isn't human," Jarvis pointed out.

"Neither are you, and I don't see you losing track of time and feeding the kids two days after you're supposed to."

"I am not an angel." Jarvis sounded affronted. "I have an impeccable inside clock."

"Internal," Pepper corrected.

"But you should probably just say you keep track of time," Rhodey added.

"Yes, well…it is my job to keep track of time," Jarvis said, his head tilting to the side in a manner that suggested he was making a mental note to not make that mistake again.

Pepper was just thankful he had gotten the hang of facial expressions. In comparison, a few misused human phrases weren't so bad.

"Well, hopefully Gadreel won't wait too long to bring them back," she said. "It didn't sound like things went well with the Trickster."

"Considering what we know of the Trickster's attitude, it was doubtful that it would," Jarvis replied. "At least they're all alright."

"What d'you think the Trickster did?" James asked. Jarvis just shrugged.

"I have no way of guessing. You can always ask the Captain when they return."

"It can't have been too bad if they're alright," Rhodey said, probably trying to find the positive side to things.

"We'll see." Pepper personally thought that if the Trickster was Tony's bad side, there was probably quite a lot of nasty things he could have done. It was just a little disconcerting to realize that now he'd do it to them, too, given a reason.

She'd never really seen Tony angry, except for with Lilith, and even if the Trickster wasn't an angel, that didn't mean it wasn't a daunting prospect.

* * *

Flying with Gadreel wasn't as comfortable as flying with Tony, but Steve was relieved enough to be back home that he didn't care about the upset stomach. There was a small gagging sound from Clint, but everyone else seemed to share the same sentiment.

"I shouldn't have had that last pizza slice," Clint groaned.

Gadreel didn't seem to know if he should apologize or just let it go. "I'm sorry?" he offered eventually.

"It's all right," Natasha assured him, patting his arm. "Clint's just a baby."

"I can _hear_ you, you know," Clint protested, sounding inordinately pleased about this fact.

Given that Clint had spent at least several hours practically deaf, Steve didn't blame him for being happy about being able to hear again.

Stepping forward, Steve let his shield drop onto the couch, smiling at Bucky standing just off to the side. "Hey, Buck."

"Good to see you're in one piece," Bucky returned easily, grinning back. "We were worried for a moment there."

"You could do a better job of checking in," Rhodey told Gadreel disapprovingly.

This time Gadreel's apology was more certain. "My apologies; I lost track of time."

Bucky pointed at him. "There! What did I tell you!"

"What happened?" Jarvis asked. "Gadreel could not give us any specifics."

"I want a shower," Clint said, not answering the question. "Or a bath. I still feel like I'm covered in sphinx guts."

"There are worse fates," Loki said.

"Were _you_ covered in blood and guts? No? Then shut up."

"Okay," Tony said, exiting the elevator with Bruce at his side. "This I _have_ to hear. You look awfully clean for someone who was apparently covered in blood."

"I'm never going to be able to watch or read _Goblet of Fire_ again without thinking of that _fucking_ maze," Clint groaned, flopping down on the couch dramatically.

Everyone who hadn't been in the maze blinked at Clint, varying expressions of surprise and confusion flickering over their faces.

"He wasn't very friendly, then?" Pepper asked, the words just slightly teasing.

Steve wasn't quite sure what to say to that considering his knee-jerk response was that the Trickster was a complete and utter _ass_ , but Tony was standing right there.

Then again, Tony was also an ass at times.

Clint beat him to the punch, staring right at Tony as he said, "He's an _asshole_. _You're_ an asshole."

Tony didn't look phased at the insult. "And that's news?"

Steve bit his lip, his eyes dropping to his feet. It wasn't just that… It was…it was how _cruel_ the Trickster was.

It was difficult to believe that Tony had ever been like that.

"In any case," Peggy said loudly, giving Clint a quelling look, "we won't be getting any help from him. He's officially announced he's neutral."

"He also told us to ask the other Loki about someone called Baldur," Natasha added. She looked at Jarvis. "Do you have any idea who that is?"

It took Jarvis a moment to respond, and when he did it was with the familiar glazed look that meant he was looking at something on the Internet. "It appears he's a figure in Norse mythology…"

"I don't know of any god named Baldur," Loki said. "Though it would explain why my counterpart would know him."

Jarvis stiffened suddenly, eyes widening a fraction. "I believe," he said in a carefully neutral voice, "I may have discovered why the Trickster told you to ask."

"Why?" Tony looked just as curious as the rest of them.

Jarvis glanced at him briefly, looking reluctant. "According to several sources, Baldur was a son of Odin," he began.

Loki scoffed. "Who wrote these myths? Thor is my only brother."

"Well…I certainly hope they're wrong in this case."

"Jarvis." Steve didn't like the way the AI was avoiding telling them. "What is it?"

Jarvis sighed. "There is a myth recorded where Loki is responsible for Baldur's death."

Loki's breath abruptly caught in his throat. Tony was staring, dumbfounded, at Jarvis.

"He – _I_ did that?" Tony whispered.

"It might not be true," Steve said quickly, ignoring the looks Peggy and Natasha shot him.

"If the Trickster told us to ask Loki about it, I'd say there's some truth to it," Natasha said evenly.

"But we don't _know_ ," Steve insisted, sounding a bit too desperate even to his own ears. "They could be wrong."

Loki looked like he was sucking on a lemon as he admitted, "The universes are too different to be certain in this case. What is wrong here could be true in the universe where my counterpart originated."

"Which is why…" Peggy sighed, sounding thoroughly disgruntled to be considering this. "Which is why we have to ask the other Loki. I hate my life."

"Why?" Tony still sounded almost horrified. "I mean…he – _I_ had to have a reason, right?"

Jarvis's gaze went glassy for another second. "It does not say," he admitted. "Those who wrote this don't seem very interested in giving Loki's side of events."

A blank expression had settled on Loki's face. "How surprising," he said flatly, not sounding surprised at all.

There was a low curse from Tony, and Steve looked over to see him putting his hands to his face, hiding it from view. He was shaking.

Rhodey went to him, clasping his shoulder reassuringly. "It's okay, Tones. I'm sure there's a good explanation for this."

Considering the reasoning the Trickster gave for doing what he did, Steve rather doubted that this Loki had a better explanation.

"It may not help," Jarvis offered quietly, "but as the story goes, Loki and Baldur were not brothers."

"They weren't?" Peggy looked just as surprised as the rest of them.

"That doesn't make any sense," Loki said. "You said Baldur was a son of Odin, yes?"

"Loki does not appear to be, as far as the mythology is concerned," Jarvis replied.

"Do you think that makes it _better_?" Tony snapped, letting his hands drop. "Brother or not, I was still related to him!"

There was a beat of silence.

"I didn't say that," Jarvis spoke after a moment. "It's true, but…" His eyes flickered to Loki before he continued. "He was apparently Odin's brother."

There was an unreadable expression on Loki's face, one that rather made Steve want to break down into inappropriate laughter. "Please tell me that was a joke."

"I'm afraid not. It _is_ odd, though."

"Tell me about it," Rhodey said. " _Odin's_ brother? That's just plain weird to think about."

"I am trying not to," Loki said, face pinched. Shaking his head, he said in a more natural tone, "So we are expected to ask my counterpart what he did with this Baldur and hope he tells us the truth. From what I know of myself, this is…incredibly unlikely."

"I don't know," Natasha. "This was the _Trickster_ telling us to. He probably only did that to cause trouble. I can guess Loki wouldn't react well."

"After the mess we just went through, I'm game," Clint said faux cheerily. "Nothing tops almost being eaten by a giant sphinx!"

"What the hell did the Trickster _do?_ " Rhodey looked bewildered. "I think we might need a little more detail on that story."

"We'll tell you, and then you can explain what happened while we were gone," Peggy said. "You said you wanted to debrief us, right? What happened?"

It took a few seconds before Tony responded, voice still subdued. "Gabriel showed up."

"I talked with him first," Gadreel said before anyone else could react. "He had some questions. I assume he considered what he should do before going to Tony."

"But he isn't here?" Steve guessed.

Tony grimaced, not seeming to see the uncomfortable looks the others shot him. "There was an…incident."

"Oh?" Peggy sounded too suspicious. "What sort of _incident_?"

"I think we can hold off on that until we hear from you," Bucky interrupted. "Otherwise we're not going to get anything done." He didn't flinch back from Peggy's stony glare. "Trust me."

* * *

"All right, Tones," Rhodey said once they had finished explaining what had happened in the maze and everything the Trickster had told them, "I say this as your best bud, but the Trickster is a _dick_."

"Trust me," Tony said, not meeting anyone's eyes, "I know."

"At least you're all right," Pepper said after a moment. "I had my doubts for a moment." She smiled, but her hands were tangled up with each other.

"I don't think he was ever really going to hurt us," Natasha said. "We don't exactly fit into his 'dicks who deserve punishment' category."

"Not like it stopped him from freaking us out," Clint muttered.

"I would have taken offense to his actions if he had done worse," Gadreel said darkly.

"So," Peggy started, looking Bucky in the eyes, "let's get to the point. What happened here?"

Swallowing, Steve looked down at this hands. He hadn't told Peggy what had happened to Tony in that other world. He didn't have the right to talk about that, and Tony had been so uncomfortable even mentioning it…

But it wasn't as if he could ignore that Tony was _different_. And that the others – observant as they all were – would notice that something was wrong.

He just wished it had happened some other way, and not when Tony wasn't even wholly himself.

There wasn't any sign of what Gabriel had done, but evidently _something_ had happened.

The others were looking at Tony, waiting for him to speak. He seemed uncomfortable under the attention, shifting anxiously.

"Gabriel panicked," Tony said finally, looking at some point on the wall to the right of them. "He, uh… I was asleep at the time, so I didn't really see what happened."

"Busted just about everything in the workshop," Rhodey explained bluntly when Tony looked at him. "And then he was gone. We haven't seen him since."

"Angels don't _panic_ ," Clint protested. "I've never seen him panic before."

"And this…" Tony ran a hand through his hair, laughing nervously. "This is where I say I didn't tell you guys everything about what happened when I was…gone. I'm not exactly sure of all the details myself; Jarvis filled me in after Gabriel left."

"You did?" Gadreel's words were quiet, but they still cut to the chase. Jarvis flinched minutely at his tone.

"I told him to," Tony said sharply. "I had to know. But…" He swallowed, meeting Gadreel's eyes. "You know more, don't you? You were there."

Everyone looked to Gadreel, who looked rather sick at the reminder. Steve's own stomach roiled at the memory of how Tony had looked after Gadreel had pulled him out.

"This is not something I will discuss," Gadreel said finally. "Your permission isn't enough, Tony. I will not betray your confidence."

"Nor is it something that should be discussed," Loki said quietly, giving Peggy a warning glare. "The finer details do not matter."

"Do you think we're stupid?" Peggy demanded, her hands curled into fists. "I know it's not ' _issues with the reactor_ ' when the lights start flickering. When someone like _Gabriel_ has trouble staying in control of the amount of power he wields, then we need to know what's wrong. What if something happens and we're not prepared for it?"

"Nothing has happened before," Gadreel pointed out. "Everything was handled."

"Just because nothing's happened _yet_ doesn't mean nothing _will,_ " Natasha pointed out. "What set him off?"

Tony seemed extremely reluctant to say anything, glancing askance at Rhodey.

Nodding slightly, Rhodey looked back at the others. "Sam ran in, yelling. It was probably the shock that did it."

"You're joking, right?" Clint sounded as skeptical as he looked. "You think a six-year-old managed to surprise an angel _that_ badly by being loud?"

Natasha looked thoughtful, something in her expression making Steve think that she knew – or had at least guessed – the real reason Sam had managed to startle Gabriel.

"You've been in war zones," Rhodey told Clint. "Think anyone comes out the same?"

"An angel has PTSD." The words were flat. "That's what you're telling me."

"It isn't as if we are exempt from injuries," Gadreel said quietly. "Don't think us infallible just because we are angels."

"But it takes a lot to bring down an angel," Clint said. "We were there when he took down the Leviathan. I was there when a bunch of guys shot him full of iron. He didn't even _blink_. So what the hell freaked him out so badly he has _PTSD_?"

"I don't remember," Tony said tightly. "And I don't _want_ to."

Steve met Jarvis's eyes for a moment, and he knew they were both thinking of what had happened.

He didn't want to have to explain that any more than the AI did.

"Okay. Stop this." Clint poked a finger at Steve accusingly. "Stop this meaningful looks bullshit. I _know_ there's something you're not telling us, and it's pissing me off."

"And me," Peggy added, staring at Steve. Her arms were folded across her chest, her entire posture closed off in a manner that Steve had never seen before.

"Uh…" Steve stumbled over his words, wondering just _what_ he should say and most of him not wanting to say anything at all. "We had some…issues over there. World…shattering issues." He winced at the explanation. It sounded poor even to him.

Loki looked aggrieved. "That is one way to put it."

"I apparently had some pissed off family members causing trouble," Tony said after another moment. "And then I pissed them off even more." He gave a one-shouldered shrug, smiling weakly.

"You keep saying that an archangel is in a different class from a regular angel," Natasha said. "How much trouble could a few family members be?"

"If they're both archangels, too?" Tony asked rhetorically. "A lot."

"You said they weren't there," Clint said accusingly. "Or what was all that shit about you being the last key?"

"It's not like they were dead." Tony looked down at his feet, shuffling them slightly. "Just…locked away. In a…" His breath hitched, and his eyes closed tightly. "…Cage."

"You don't have to speak of it if you don't want to." Gadreel was watching Tony closely, worry clear on his face.

Tony shook his head, and Rhodey moved his chair over, putting one arm over Tony's shoulders. It was rattling to see Tony so thoroughly shaken, even when he barely remembered it.

Then again, he had reason to be.

"A cage?" Peggy looked just as worried, but she was still clearly determined to get answers. If anything, her worry was probably fueling that. It was one of the things Steve loved about her.

Gadreel glanced at her. "When Lucifer Fell, he was locked in a Cage. From what I understand, this Cage was bound by seals that had to be broken in a certain order for it to open."

"They made a way to _open_ a Cage with the devil in it?" Clint snorted. "Doesn't sound like a great idea."

"It's for the Apocalypse," Steve said, knowing this much from his religion. "You break enough seals and release him, and it's – well – the end of the world. From what someone over there told me"-while they had been waiting on Gadreel to come back with Tony-"the Cage had already been opened before. But they managed to shut it again before the whole 'everyone dying' thing happened."

"The rings of the four Horsemen," Gadreel provided. "I know that much. It would have sealed the Cage again - and was, once, successfully accomplished."

"But they got out again?" Clint guessed. "Since you had to deal with them and all…"

"You said two archangels," Natasha said suddenly. "If Raphael was with you-"

"Michael wasn't as much of an issue," Steve told her. "It wasn't that great. He didn't help us at all. Didn't seem to care what happened."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Meaning you had to literally deal with the Devil?" she asked dryly.

"That doesn't answer the question as to how this Cage _opened again_ ," Clint said, glaring between Steve and Gadreel. "You'd think something built to hold _Satan_ would actually stay intact!"

Abruptly, Tony stood up, moving towards the elevator. Steve held out a hand as Peggy moved to get up as well. "Let him go," he said softly, making her give him a startled look.

Rhodey did get up. "I'll make sure he's alright," he said. "I don't really need to hear the story again."

Pepper followed after them as well, worry written all over her.

Once the elevator doors had closed, Gadreel spoke again, shame etched in every inch of his frame. "It was my fault. I…was not careful enough." He shifted anxiously, the movement betraying just how nervous he was.

"You thought it was a good idea to go sight-seeing?" Clint asked sarcastically. "See how the Devil was doing? What – did you poke him through the bars?"

"He _had_ to!" Steve burst out. Clint's words made him angry, even though he knew the other man had no way of knowing how _important_ it had been. "It – we didn't have a _choice,_ unless we wanted Tony stuck in there with them forever!"

In the stunned silence that fell after he spoke, Steve realized what he had just said. He hadn't – shit. Steve bent his head, staring at the table.

"What do you mean?" Natasha's voice was soft, but with an foreboding edge. "Was he… Tony was in the Cage?"

"Not by design, I assure you," Gadreel said, so still that he could have been a statue. "That was an accident, one that should never have happened if it were not for that accursed spell."

"What spell?" Peggy demanded. "What kind of _accident_ would trap him in there?"

"We had all Fallen," Gadreel said quietly. "All of us… The gates to Heaven were closed, barring us from our home. I had no idea what to do. I was lost, free for the first time in…" He didn't finish the sentence, shaking his head. "Then there was Gabriel. He was the only one who could manage it, and he did. He succeeded…but at such a price…"

Staring off into space for a few seconds, he continued. "The spell was spoken only once before, during the original Fall when Michael struck Lucifer down. Raphael said it was that which caused the Cage to open once again."

The rest of them had been listening with a sort of quiet, building horror as Gadreel spoke – those who hadn't known previously, mostly, but it wasn't any easier remembering what had happened. Loki was staring at his hands as if he could do something with them to make remembering easier.

"Something happened to him down there." It wasn't a question, but the way Peggy said it made it sound like she was hoping the answer would be no.

Gadreel let out a long breath. "Yes," he said quietly. "Gabriel was…trapped. With two beings who knew for certain that he was the only one in all of Creation who could have – or _would_ have – told anyone that the rings would work to seal an archangel back into the Cage."

His voice was blankly neutral as he went on. "I was too slow. Time…runs differently down there. Ten years for a month."

Bucky inhaled sharply. " _Shit._ You said-" He turned to Jarvis. "You said it took a month for Gadreel to get back."

"I waited two days before going," Gadreel said tonelessly, either ignoring or just not noticing the reactions of those still in the room. "Castiel had to prepare me. And I…I was not certain that I should even do it."

"You mean you refused to," Loki said sharply, the words biting.

Gadreel's eyes darted to him. "I knew the risks." He was still speaking barely above a whisper, but it was so quiet that they could all hear him perfectly. "It…was not something that I wished to be responsible for."

"Are you saying you almost _left_ him down there?"

Gabriel didn't flinch from the answer. "Yes. I knew Gabriel would not want to free Lucifer, and the risk was too great. But I…" His eyes closed. "He forgave me." The words were even quieter than the ones before. "After what I did, he _forgave_ me. So I…I chose to do it."

"I forced you, you mean," Loki said, eyes dark.

Gabriel shot him an angry look, lips thin. "You would not have kept me bound for long, Loki. One can't force an angel."

"So you pulled him out," Clint said, shrinking back into the couch. "And you broke the Cage?" His attitude had changed drastically. Steve guessed he was starting to wish he hadn't asked; _Steve_ wished he had opted out of listening to this.

Gadreel looked back at him. "Not at first… But I weakened it. It had never been designed to hold three of Heaven's strongest. Only ever for one of them. And if what Michael apparently said was written was true…it was never intended to be permanent.".

When Gadreel didn't continue, Steve did, remembering with aching clarity just what had followed. "And then we had Lucifer to deal with and no way of containing him."

"I really hope you didn't go and threaten to punch his face in," Bucky said wryly, his attempt at lightening the mood falling horribly flat.

"Hell, no." Steve smiled weakly at him. "I would've broken something."

"He would have stabbed you," Loki pointed out. "Or something much worse and undoubtedly prolonged. And then you would be dead."

"So what happened with Lucifer?"

That was a question Steve had been hoping wouldn't come up.

Loki shrugged, folding his arms across his chest. "After some rather horrible mishaps, Gabriel managed to subdue him. And now we are all here trying to fix this latest mess he has managed to get himself into."

Steve stifled a hysterical laugh at the succinct way Loki had managed to brush over Tony almost _dying_ again before he went off on a suicide mission to try and persuade Lucifer one last time to abort the apocalypse. He could still remember those screams in the warehouse before it had blown up, and the way Tony had been _glowing_ afterward.

He still wasn't sure what the hell had happened there, other than Raphael coming back to life as a fully powered archangel.

Natasha looked doubtful. "Just like that," she said dryly. "It can hardly be worse than what we've heard so far." She looked shaken; obviously she, like the others, hadn't been expecting what could count as a horror story.

"I am no bard," Loki said. "I can hardly dramatize what was a battle for the ages. If you want tales of victory, ask Thor."

Just about all they had seen was some really insane weather that Gadreel had shielded them from. And just as suddenly as the weather had started, it had cleared up.

"We're not asking for flowery language," Natasha said. "Just the truth."

When none of them spoke up, Natasha leaned forward. "I know that Samael was what Lucifer was called before he Fell," she said evenly, confirming Steve's earlier suspicions about how much she knew. "I also know that Tony doesn't regret it."

Clint sucked in a breath. "Wait, you're not seriously saying…"

Gadreel's lips pulled into a small smile. "He thought it appropriate. It was a new beginning for nem."

Clint still looked sucker-punched, and Peggy didn't look much better.

"That child…" Peggy glanced at the elevator. "I can't believe it."

"Do you think Lucifer was born as such?" Gadreel's smile was more genuine now. "He was once the most beautiful of all of us. I remember him, bright and shining and filled with so much love. That was who he was before Father Created humans. Gabriel sought that core out – the core of who Lucifer had been – and gave it new life. Samael is no more Lucifer than Loki is."

"Doubtful," Loki drawled. "I _have_ been slated to begin Ragnarok, so that is perhaps not a good comparison."

"If anyone starts giving that kid grief," Bucky said fiercely, "I am going to personally give _them_ grief."

"No way." Peggy shook her head. "Sam might have used to be...like _that,_ but I don't think any of us would stoop that low. Sam's a kid."

"This is just _weird._ " Clint was shaking his head. "Man, what happens if Sam remembers like Tony did? It's gonna destroy nem."

"Lucifer's Grace isn't here," Gadreel said. "There is no chance of that happening…accidentally, at least. I am uncertain as to what Gabriel has planned, but I suspect he will leave the choice to nem when ne is old enough."

"No wonder he didn't want nem calling him 'Dad,'" Peggy murmured. "I did wonder why he kept asking nem to say 'uncle' instead. It must be so odd for him." She made a face. "I supposed I shouldn't have yelled at him quite so much about that, then."

"When did that happen?" Steve asked.

"Sometime after the mess with HYDRA," Peggy answered. "It wasn't a very good day, and his behavior just made it worse."

"It's still going to fuck them up," Clint said. "That's history that's not going to go away, no matter how Tony tries to change things."

"He wants to give Samael a second chance," Gadreel said softly. "And the ability to choose."

A silence, not exactly comfortable but not tense, hung in the room for several moments before Jarvis pushed his chair away from the table, expression carefully neutral. "I should go see how Mr. Stark is doing."

"I'll come with," Steve said, desperately wanting to make sure Tony was okay. He knew he _was_ , but…he just had to be _sure_.

They had already made that mistake before, and it wasn't one that Steve was willing to repeat.


	8. Chapter 8

**Starting to make some progress in this chapter! Hope you guys don't mind the wait.**

* * *

Gabriel showed up again the day after that.

Tony whirled around as soon as he noticed the angel. "What the hell!"

Gabriel's usual neutral expression was only vaguely mixed with guilt. He glanced at the broken windows.

"Where did you _go_?" Tony demanded.

"Elsewhere," Gabriel replied shortly. "I…didn't wish to do any more damage."

"Good job with that," Tony said sarcastically. "You managed to freak Sam out pretty badly."

The guilt intensified somewhat. "Apologies."

"' _Apologies_ ' isn't good enough." Turning his back to Gabriel with an irritated huff, Tony viciously jabbed a finger at the holograph he was working with. It didn't do anything to assuage his irritation, and for a moment he wished they were physical so he could at least jab something that he could touch.

"I…" Gabriel hesitated slightly, and Tony heard him moving around. "I came back to help."

"You still interested in joining back together with little ol' me?" Tony glanced back at him despite himself, catching sight of Gabriel's ashamed face. It was rather odd seeing it on another person's face and not in a mirror.

"I took some time to think," Gabriel said slowly, "as some…memories made themselves more obvious. I think it would be beneficial if we did."

Curious now, Tony turned towards him. "What do you mean by that?"

"It would help stabilize my Grace," Gabriel admitted, sounding reluctant to confess this. "At least…that is what I suspect."

Tony eyed him for a moment. He had a feeling he knew why Gabriel's Grace was off-kilter. "Sure you don't have a more personal reason?"

Gabriel's eyes flickered away from him. "Some." He leaned against the table, a casual movement Tony wouldn't have expected him to make. "All of you here…" He paused, as if searching for the right words. "I know I learned _something_ while we were still one and the same. I am…interested in figuring out what that was, but like this I don't seem to be able to quite grasp it."

Tony suspected that was about all he'd be able to pry from the other. "Okay," he said simply, flicking another holograph into life and pushing it towards Gabriel. "Then we need to finish putting this thing back together so we can get on it."

Gabriel didn't look at the holograph, his eyes on Tony. "You figured it out?"

"With the data you added before you up and vamoosed, I think I've got the gist of how it worked," Tony said. He definitely had _something._ Whether it was the right idea, they were about to find out… "But I'll need someone who's a bit more talented on the magical side of things to finish it."

He had already mostly rebuilt Doom's power source with some help from Loki and Gadreel. It was now back to what it must have been like before, and Tony was just waiting on a few final touches before sticking it back into the machine.

It had been Gabriel's vague, blurry recollections that had given him the last bit of data to figure out how the thing had worked. Although it would've been easier if Gabriel had just _told_ him what he remembered, Tony had done well enough with what he'd written.

The machine was rather ingenious in its design. Its only flaw was that it didn't know when to stop pulling energy from the poor sap that was caught in its crosshairs. Gabriel had too much energy for it, so it had overloaded on Grace right after splitting them all into four.

Tony wasn't very interested in having to rebuild the thing again, so he was hoping that Gabriel could buff it up. He'd been going to go to Gadreel for the last touch, but he had the feeling that Gabriel's Grace was more potent. And considering who they were trying to rejoin, they were going to need as much potency as they could get.

"And you think you can use it to rejoin us?" Gabriel asked.

"Pretty sure. Once I got an idea of how it worked, I went back in and changed a few things here and there." It was more complicated than that, but Tony didn't have the patience to explain the intricacies of what he'd done to Gabriel.

"What do you need me to do?" Gabriel asked, his eyes falling to the power source.

"It exploded because it couldn't handle our Grace," Tony explained. "And we don't want that to happen again. So if you could just"—he gestured with a hand—"bolster it? Get it accustomed to your Grace? That way it won't explode on us. Or it's less likely to, anyway. The thing's still manmade."

Gabriel eyed the power source doubtfully. "I can try. It is just as likely that I will explode the thing on accident." He sounded rueful.

"I've got faith in you," Tony assured him. "Just do it nice and slow."

With a small frown on his face that quickly smoothed out as he approached the power source, Gabriel knelt on the floor, resting his hands on the smooth surface, his eyes fluttering shut as he focused.

Tony kept quiet, not wanting to disturb him and risk another incident like before. Gadreel had offered to fix everything, but there was a high likelihood he would mess something up because as intelligent as he was, Gadreel's strong point was not technology.

There was a heavy pressure in the air, something weighing down on his shoulders. Exhaling shakily, Tony leaned his weight on a table, eyes still on Gabriel.

There was no sign of the strain Gabriel was putting himself under, but Tony _knew_ this was difficult for him.

When it was finally over, when Gabriel pulled his hands away with a sharp jerk and his eyes snapped open, Tony found himself pulling in a deep breath that had been impossible before. The interminable pressure from before was gone, and he could breathe.

"It's done," Gabriel said after a moment, his voice strained. "It shouldn't be as likely to destroy itself now."

Nodding, Tony pushed himself away from the table. "Okay, great. I'll just pop that in. Er…mind giving me a hand?"

The power source was heavy, but Gabriel lifted it like it was nothing, following Tony's instructions as he carefully inserted it back into the machine.

Once it was done, Tony went back to the computer, checking that everything was in order. He almost couldn't believe it. Days of work and now…it was done.

"Don't alert the others." Gabriel's voice was quiet.

Tony's fingers curled inwards from where he'd been about to let Bruce know. "You think it might go wrong?"

Gabriel glanced at him, face blank. "I think I would rather not chance it."

Considering everything…that was actually a good idea.

If it didn't work, Tony would rather not have anyone else injured. And if it _did_ …well…he had no idea how he would react once it was over.

"Okay, then." Taking a breath, Tony continued. "Hey, JARVIS…mind keeping the others out as long as you can?"

Gabriel didn't startle when JARVIS's answer came. "If you are quite certain, sir…"

"Never am, buddy," Tony said, starting the set-up sequence for the machine that would power it on. "But I think it's for the best."

There was no further response, but Tony knew JARVIS would do the best he could. The others would come running eventually, but they wouldn't be here as quickly as usual.

"You're ready?" Gabriel asked when Tony came to stand by him.

Tony laughed, his heart fluttering nervously. "Fuck, no. But I don't think I'll ever be. You?"

"I find I am…nervous." Gabriel seemed rather surprised at the admission.

"Hey, well, welcome to humanity." Tony gestured to the machine. "Mind doing the honors?"

Taking a breath, Gabriel turned his focus to the machine, his eyes glowing white.

There was a brief moment where Tony didn't think it had worked, but then everything burst into pain.

* * *

The first sign that something had happened was that there was an explosive noise from Tony's workshop. The second sign was the entire tower shaking violently, something that had never happened before. And the third was a sound that Gadreel had never wanted to hear again, not after the last time he had heard it.

Not even glancing towards the others, Gadreel attempted to take flight, only to be thrown back by a barrier created by a familiar Grace. Stumbling only slightly as he regained his balance, Gadreel quickly headed to the stairs, followed by Steve, James, and Peggy.

The others weren't even on this floor, but he had no doubt that they would also turn up as soon as they could.

The shaking subsided slightly as they drew closer to the workshop, but that sound was still there, and Gadreel could see Peggy and James struggling to block it out with their hands, their faces pained. Steve wasn't having as much trouble, but then he could also hear their true voices.

The workshop was thankfully still in one piece, and there was no one inside it save for the lone figure curled up on the floor, his arms over his head.

Gadreel could see both Grace and human soul struggling to merge in that body, the turmoil of the Grace making it more difficult. He reached out with his own, aching to soothe, but was rebuffed instinctively.

Drawing inwards, Gabriel tried to think of a different route to approach him. Tony had evidently figured out the machine, and Gabriel had joined him without Gadreel noticing.

But the whys were not important. The problem was that they had _done_ it, and now they were struggling to put themselves back together.

"Gabriel," Gadreel called. When there was no immediate response, he tried again, this time in Enochian. "Gabriel."

The ringing subsided, and Gadreel barely heard the relieved gasps from Peggy and James, too focused on getting to Gabriel to try and calm him down. "You're safe," he said, his steps slow and careful. "You're home."

Gabriel didn't respond, but Gadreel could see the way his fingers whitened where he was gripping his head.

"It's all right, sibling," Gadreel murmured, gradually lowering himself until he was kneeling before Gabriel, able to touch him reassuringly.

There was no immediate response aside from Gabriel's muscles flexing under his fingers. Then, in a hoarse whisper, "It hurts."

"I know." Gadreel could see it, could see where Gabriel's Grace was still scarred and twisted from what Lucifer had done. His own ached in sympathy, and when he reached out to touch, he could still feel the lingering traces of cold that clung to the scars. This time Gabriel let him, and Gadreel let his own warmth sink into his brother. "You're safe," he repeated softly, gently loosening Gabriel's fingers from where they were clutching his hair.

Gabriel heaved in a gasping breath, the sound physically painful to listen to, before it shuddered out and he slumped against Gadreel, shivering. He didn't have to say anything else for Gadreel to know that he was cold, and he just wished he could scrub away the last vestiges of what Lucifer had done to him.

He had thought their Father had done it, but…

Steve's footsteps sounded from behind him, cautious. "Is he all right?" The question was a whisper.

Gadreel didn't look away from Gabriel, holding him gently against him. "He will be."

"Thank God," Steve exhaled in relief. He staggered over to the nearest chair, plopping himself down in it. "Was that them merging back together?"

Gabriel's Grace was back to what Gadreel was familiar with – that unusual combination of Grace and human soul that he had never seen anywhere else. "Yes."

James's voice was too loud as he said, "You know I can't hear _anything_ , right? And my ears are bleeding."

"They'll heal," Gadreel said when Steve shot him a concerned look. "They're lucky it wasn't worse."

"Right," Steve said, nodding. "Burning eyeballs…"

Gadreel heard the others joining them, all of them talking too loudly and all of them radiating a single-minded concern for the being still shivering against him. He couldn't understand why they had done it without asking for help.

…Or, rather, he _could_ , but he didn't _want_ to. They could have asked him to be there, or had they not trusted him?

There was a faint pulse of reassurance from Gabriel, whose fingers had wrapped around Gadreel's wrist.

Gabriel hadn't trusted himself.

Given what had just happened, Gadreel found he couldn't blame him.

After a few more minutes of silent shivering that gradually subsided, Gabriel pulled himself away, leaning back against one of the tables, breathing in deeply. "I'm good," he said quietly, but his hands stayed on Gadreel.

"You're…" Clint gestured vaguely. "Both of you again?"

"Yeah." Gabriel glanced up at the worried group of humans, frowning when he saw blood, realization crossing his face a second later. "Did I—"

"Yes," Gadreel answered, anticipating the question. "Nothing major, just…" Gabriel's true voice had gotten out of his control.

"Sorry." Gabriel smiled weakly at them. "I…wasn't too sure what would happen."

"Well," Steve said, "I was going to chew you out for not talking to us about this, but I think I understand." The smile on his face softened the words, and Gabriel returned it, his grin brighter than before.

Then, looking at Gadreel, Gabriel said, "Do you think you can do something about their ears? I would, but…" He winced, a shiver wracking his frame.

Gadreel nodded, working his wrist out of Gabriel's hand. "Yes."

It took a few minutes, but Gadreel quickly took care of the damage that Gabriel had inadvertently caused. When he was done, everyone still looked rather dazed but didn't seem to be in any more pain.

Clint actually looked rather thoughtful, tapping his earlobe. "I think I can hear better than before?"

Gadreel just shrugged, having healed absolutely everything he could. He had no idea what humans actually heard; he only knew what a human ear _should_ be like.

"So…" Bruce looked towards the machine. "I thought we'd agreed on waiting until Gadreel was able to take a look at it?"

"Well, I showed up again…" Gabriel smiled at Bruce, this time without the edge of pain. "Did you expect me to wait?"

"If you had the opportunity not to, not really."

"What _was_ that?" James asked.

" _That_ was an archangel's true voice," Gadreel replied. "It can be overwhelming to humans."

"That's what you normally sound like?" James eyed Gabriel warily.

"Only if I'm trying to be impressive," Gabriel said dryly. "At least it was just that and not my true _form."_

"What happens if you show your true form?" Clint asked, sounding curious. "I get the eyeballs and all…"

"Probably at least half of the planet gets blasted if we're mad," Gabriel said. "It's why we use vessels. Not a great idea to go wandering around without one." He pulled himself up, using the table to give himself some leverage. "All right, yay. I'm back together. Let's celebrate."

"You're still only one half of yourself," Gadreel pointed out.

"Semantics." Gabriel brushed his comment away with a hand wave. "We'll figure it out."

"You think you can persuade them?" Steve had his eyebrows raised.

"Well…" Gabriel sat himself on the table, his legs swinging. "I was more or less thinking about grabbing them. They're not likely to be persuaded, less so by me. Pagans and angels really don't mesh, and tricksters can't stand us."

"Which does lead one to wonder why you decided to become both," Peggy pointed out dryly.

Gabriel's smile was a bit too bright. "No one's going to look for an angel among the _pagans_. It was the safest place for me to lay low. And when they started losing their mojo thanks to Christianity, I went a little deeper. Inspired a whole new breed of monsters."

"Losing their mojo?" There were a _lot_ of questions that Gabriel's statement raised, but Natasha spoke before Gadreel could. "Loki mentioned something like that. Mind explaining?"

Gabriel looked thoughtful for a moment. "Gods get their power from the people who worship them, mostly," he said eventually. "Some of it's just because they're gods, but the bigger someone's pantheon is, the more powerful they are. And when they _lose_ that base of power…" He made a face. "Let's just say they aren't too happy. It's why a lot of them ended up on the whole 'eating humans' track. It gives them a boost."

"That's disgusting," Peggy said.

"No one said it wasn't. I thought the same." Gabriel shrugged. "Then again, god of chaos. I was never very short on power. There was always _something_ going wrong. But you should've been there to see the mess the Romans made of the Greek pantheon. You never knew who you were speaking to." He laughed to himself under his breath.

"None of us are ancient, immortal beings who've been around since the dawn of the universe," Natasha said wryly. "We'll just have to take your word for it."

"Don't worry." Gabriel's grin was bright. "It's very reliable."

"How did you gain power from Loki's followers?" Gadreel asked, curiosity practically burning at him. He had not known this part of his brother before. "If you are an archangel at heart…"

"It's all about belief." Gabriel didn't look bothered by the question. "I mean, sure, I _was_ Gabriel, but everyone believed I was Loki. To the point where I _was_ him."

"An archangel cannot just transform into a god," Gadreel said, slightly disbelievingly.

Gabriel shrugged. "Belief's a powerful thing, especially if it's thousands of people. And I was pretty deep undercover."

Gabriel had mentioned that he'd left Heaven, but Gadreel hadn't imagined that he'd taken it so far. "Anything you remember of gods will help with Loki," he settled on saying. "It's not like any of us know much about them."

"Anything, you mean," Peggy said. "It's not like there are any here. On Earth, I mean."

"We have a Loki," Clint pointed out. "A scary one who plays a mean game of poker."

Gabriel snorted. "They're not the same. Loki doesn't eat humans, for one. You should've seen the look he gave Dean when Dean suggested it. They're also not reliant on a base of power for their abilities."

"And this one is?" Peggy asked. "I assume he doesn't eat humans."

Gabriel looked offended. " _No._ Why would I do that?"

There was a strange look on Peggy's face, one Gadreel wasn't quite sure how to interpret. "Well…it's good to know."

Steve shot Peggy a look before returning his attention to Gabriel. "We know what the Trickster's capable of, but we still don't know what Loki can do. It would help if we did so that we could formulate a plan."

"Yeah, walking up and trying to talk to him didn't work out so well last time," James said. "He really didn't like Gadreel."

"There's only so much that I remember," Gabriel reminded them. "Not so much Loki, but more…that they were around, and how they worked. I was kind of curious when I realized they had started popping up. They were almost like…mini-Dads. Just more bloodthirsty."

If Gadreel hadn't spent so much time around Gabriel already, he would have protested the comparison of gods against their Father, but Gabriel had by now desensitized him to casual blasphemy.

This should probably concern him more than it did.

"So we can expect someone super powerful who has it in for humans?" Clint guessed.

Gabriel tilted his head back, looking at the ceiling. "More like…a hyped-up version of the Trickster."

Everyone who had dealt with the Trickster made disgusted faces, Clint even going so far as to say, "Count me out with dealing with him."

"He seemed more reasonable," Natasha said after a moment. "Once Gadreel left, he was more willing to talk with us."

"Considering there's a hell of a lot of politics going on in the pantheons, I'm not surprised. Tricksters don't really have to deal with that; they're loners." Gabriel frowned thoughtfully. "From what I remember, at least. I didn't know much about what happened inside the pantheons before I was Loki."

"But you remember the Trickster?" Peggy looked skeptical.

"Honestly, that's a guess. From what you said, Loki went looking for something familiar – the Trickster just kept on doing what he usually does, which means he's not worried about being attached to any place or person."

Natasha appeared to consider Gabriel's words, nodding once he'd finished. "Loki looked for where he thought he belonged," she said. "The Trickster didn't."

"Well, if you want to put it like _that._ " Gabriel shrugged, shooting her a grin. "I'd say you got them better figured out than me."

Natasha's head tilted. "But they're you?"

"Different facets of me." Gabriel's smile was self-deprecating. "You know how it is."

Having interacted with Gabriel and Tony both separately and together, Gadreel could see what he meant. Even now, there was a subtle difference between how Gabriel acted when he was more human or angel. And it wasn't just Gabriel letting his human soul come more to the forefront. It was as if, without any of them realizing, Tony and Gabriel switched between each other as though they truly were two different people in the same body.

"We'll figure it out," Steve said after a thoughtful moment, running a hand through his hair. He exhaled softly, eyes closing briefly. "Let's just deal with whoever pops up next."

"Mm…" Gabriel rubbed his throat, seemingly unconsciously. "I'll see what I can do to help, but it might be a bit." His smile was rueful. "I don't quite trust myself yet."

The silence that followed was rather stilted, Gadreel not quite sure what to say. He could still see the turmoil in Gabriel's Grace, more violent than it had been in months, but it was calming as time passed, Gabriel finding his focus.

"It's okay," Steve assured Gabriel, quietly confident. "We'll handle it. What are friends for?"

A sly grin pulled at Gabriel's lips. "Poking fun at."

Steve snorted, ducking his head, but Gadreel could see how pleased he was that Gabriel was at least partially back to normal. He couldn't deny that he was equally relieved – the idea of Gabriel, like that, wandering around had worried him.

He knew that Gabriel wouldn't have done anything drastic most likely, but an archangel was an archangel.

"Seriously, though. Let's take a day or something." Gabriel spread his hands. "Have, I dunno, another movie night or something. I still haven't shown Loki Monty Python."

"He went off somewhere," Peggy said. "Something about doing a favor for Thor."

"When he gets back, then." Gabriel grinned at them. "Something fun. I don't care. I don't have to worry about this machine any more. Unless you'd _like_ me to stay in the lab a little longer—"

"It's not like I took a leave of absence or anything because I was worried about you," Rhodey said, his lips twitching. "But if you wanna hole yourself up in here and be a hermit—"

"Hermits are antisocial," Gabriel pointed out.

"We'd like you around," Steve interrupted before Rhodey could further entertain this train of thought. "It's been weird without you."

"Yeah, no one's entertained my delusions of turning into a bird and flying away," Clint said, poker-faced. "Gadreel just gives me a look when I do."

"Shapeshifting isn't for humans," Gadreel started, only to cut off when Clint waved his hands at his throat.

"Not like that stopped anyone in the other universe," Gabriel said conversationally. "I never told you about shapeshifters?"

"No." Gadreel looked quizzically at Gabriel. " _Human_ shapeshifters?"

"Technically, no, but most of them started out human." Gabriel made a dismissive gesture. "Long story. This is just gonna derail into a conversation about all the monsters that existed over there."

"Vampires?" Clint asked.

"They have a _lot_ of pointy teeth. Not just the stereotypical two. Johnny wasn't kidding about those."

"Please tell me werewolves aren't real," Peggy said, looking amused. "Those are so overdone nowadays."

"No one goes running around without a shirt if that's what you're worried about." Gabriel's brow furrowed. "I always thought they got the short end of the stick, considering half the time they don't even know what's going on." Shaking his head, he continued. "We'd be here all night if I listed all the monsters we had over there, and some of them are just downright nasty. If you've ever heard of a wendigo, you should know that's just the tip of the iceberg."

"That's Native American, isn't it?" Natasha asked, thoughtful.

"Something like that," Gabriel confirmed. "Anyway…" He slipped down from the table, brushing by everyone to go to the elevator. "Let's chill while we figure out our next move."

Gadreel almost pointed out that Gabriel didn't like the cold before he remembered it was a figure of speech.

Wiping his hand down on his jacket, still feeling the traces of Grace clinging to his own, Gadreel followed after his brother, stretching his Grace out in comfort.

Gabriel returned the touch, his eyes soft when he turned around to meet Gadreel's, a subtle smile playing at his lips before he ducked his head.

Gadreel let his shoulder brush against Gabriel's as he stepped into the elevator, waiting for the others to join them.

It was a relief to know that they already had part of the problem solved. If only the Trickster and Loki would be as easy to take care of.

* * *

Several hours into the team marathoning the extended edition _Lord of the Rings_ , Loki returned.

The other's distinctive magic brushed against Tony's senses, and he turned as much as he could with the weight of four kids piled on top of him, catching Loki's eyes as he hovered by the doorway.

Raising his eyebrows, Tony jerked his head to an empty armchair that no one had wanted to sit in because it didn't offer a good view of the TV (or so they all claimed; it wasn't worth the effort to call them on their bullshit).

Hesitating only briefly, Loki came in quietly, settling in without almost anyone the wiser. Tony did see Gadreel looking briefly over before his attention returned to the screen, but other than that no one paid him any mind.

Resting his head back against the couch, Tony closed his eyes, focusing on breathing. Dustin and Suzie were lying right behind him, Dustin's paws gently kneading at his shoulders. He hadn't been paying too much attention to the movie, too focused on regaining control of his roiling Grace.

It had been the shock of those memories coming back into clarity that had caused him to lose control, and he was still struggling to calm himself.

Gadreel's Grace brushed against his own, offering silent, _warm_ comfort that he could take at any moment.

Exhaling slowly, Tony opened his eyes, looking past the ceiling and to the dark sky clouded with light from the city. He really wanted to fly, recollect himself in private, but he had other obligations.

Once he had the Trickster and Loki parts of himself handled, then he could consider taking a short break to just… _be_.

His hand flexed where it lay on Sam's head, and he briefly ran his fingers through nir hair. Sam hummed under nir breath, pushing into the touch and giving Tony a smile before snuggling further into his side.

It was a relief that he hadn't harmed Sam while he'd been just…Gabriel.

It was so strange remembering that set of memories, colored with a completely set of perceptions – something that he hadn't had in _years_. It felt alien, like it hadn't even really been _him_ , but he knew it had been.

Tuning into the movie, Tony let his Grace settle back into himself, breath hitching slightly as it pulsed slightly in pain.

He was so sick of hurting.

"That orc is so ugly," Dummy muttered under his breath, jerking Tony out of his self-pitying thoughts.

"It's not like he has makeup," Butterfingers pointed out reasonably.

"A face only a mother could love," Dummy insisted. "Or a dad."

"Shh!" Sam hushed them, poking both of them in reprimand.

Stifling a snort at the utter normality of their behavior, Tony relaxed into the soft material of the couch.

He was only peripherally aware of Loki's eyes on him, and he didn't think of why Loki was even looking at him until after the movie was over and Loki said, "You seem to have pulled yourself together well enough in my absence."

Barely noticing the others' startled reactions, Tony grinned at Loki. "Jokes like that are why I like you."

Loki gave him an unimpressed look. "You are Gabriel now, I assume?"

"And Tony," Tony added, smirking lazily. "Managed to figure the machine out."

"That does make our job easier," Loki said, settling back into the armchair, his arms folded across his chest. "Now we simply need to retrieve your other selves before we can finish it."

"That's totally on the agenda," Tony said, waving his hand dismissively. "But first we're going to kick back and relax, 'cause otherwise someone's going to be murdered and it won't be part of me."

"Doubtful," Natasha said, not looking up from where she was running fingers through James's hair in her lap. She had pulled out the hair band keeping it tied up not even halfway through the opening credits.

"No one's murdering anyone," Steve mumbled, half-asleep on Peggy's shoulder. "We're all friends…"

"Speak for yourself." Lying flat on the carpet, Clint's eyes were closed. "I'm feeling pretty stabby."

Pulling in a slow breath, Tony wondered just what sort of memories he would be regaining from the Trickster. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like it.

Yet nothing could be as bad as what he had just remembered.

Patting Tony's cheek, Sam pulled his attention down to nem. "Can we do a sleepover?" ne whispered.

Sitting on either side of him, Pepper and Rhodey shot him amused looks that weren't as effective as usual given how drowsy they looked.

Thinking of the large bed in his bedroom that was big enough for four small kids and two fully grown adults to lie in, Tony thought it wasn't a bad idea as long as someone could help him with four practical dead weights.

"Yeah," Tony said just as quietly, rubbing his thumb gently over Sam's cheek. "We can."

* * *

Tony was out on the balcony when he felt Steve approach, the other's soul a bright beacon to his senses. He didn't bother to turn around, instead just waving absentmindedly in greeting, his eyes on the city below his feet.

"I haven't seen you around today," Steve said quietly, shuffling around slightly behind him.

"Thought I'd just get some air," Tony said. He glanced back at him. "C'mon and sit. It's nice and warm."

"Because of you or the sun?" Steve was grinning.

"Both?" Tony shrugged. "It's all the same."

Steve carefully sat down next to him, moving his own legs over the edge. "I don't think I've ever done this before."

"Don't worry. I won't let you fall if you get sick."

Steve nudged his shoulder with his own. "I wasn't worried about that. But…" He eyed the drop. "We are awfully high up."

Tony hummed skeptically. "You jump out of planes with no parachute."

"When there's water. Even I know I can't survive a fall over dry land."

"And it has nothing to do with James chewing you out?"

Steve averted his gaze. "Nope."

"You're an adrenaline junkie," Tony said, unable to stop a hint of fondness from creeping into his tone. He really shouldn't be encouraging Steve, but the entertainment alone in seeing James _and_ Peggy chew out an abashed super soldier was definitely worth it.

"You're right," Steve said. "Sitting a hundred floors in the air isn't really doing it for me. I need another hundred."

Craning his head back, Tony considered the logistics of quickly adding another hundred floors just for kicks.

"Don't," Steve said quickly, grabbing hold of Tony's elbow. "Pepper would kill us."

"Yeah, probably." Tony considered the view – New York stretching out before them, the sky tinted pink on one part of the horizon as the sun threatened to dip below it. "Did you come out here for the sights, or something else?" There was _something_ nagging at Steve. Tony didn't need to read his mind to guess that.

"Something else," Steve admitted. "We…I mean, I never really spoke to Gabriel, except for when we summoned him. You."

That was true. Steve had been trying to get out from the Trickster's grip when the Gabriel part of Tony had arrived at the Tower. "That wasn't a great idea, you know," Tony told him. "Being summoned isn't fun."

"You didn't seem very happy with us," Steve remembered. "I couldn't tell whether that was because you were just Gabriel, or you were mad that we'd summoned you."

"A little bit of both." Tony remembered that now, odd as those memories were. It _wasn't_ fun being yanked across a galaxy and a half just because "a bunch of humans," as he'd considered them as Gabriel, wanted to talk.

"You were different," Steve said after a moment of companionable silence had passed. "As Gabriel."

Tony got the feeling that Steve had voiced the issue he'd come out to talk about. "Well, you got to meet original-issue me," he said, trying to sound cheerful. "Before being Loki or anything like that. Before anything other than Heaven, really."

Steve took a moment to respond, the words slow. "It was…strange. You looked like you, but you weren't." His eyes flickered to Tony's before darting away. "The others…they've changed their appearances."

"I can't say much for the others right now, but as for me…a vessel's a vessel." Tony shrugged. "It's just the trappings that let me walk around down here without hurting anyone."

"Well…" A small smile pulled at Steve's lips. "In my rather biased judgment, I'd say it's a good one."

Surprised, Tony couldn't help but snort in laughter. "I admit I'm a bit fond of it myself, however cool my old one was." He still missed it. One didn't go millennia in the same vessel _without_ growing fond of it.

"Why, what did your last vessel look like?" Steve looked honestly curious.

"A lot shorter, for one." Tony gestured, even though while sitting down it wasn't a great reflection of how tall he'd _actually_ been. "Longer hair. I was blond."

Steve had grown very still. "Hazel eyes?"

Tony remembered seeing his old vessel standing in front of him the last time he'd regained his Grace. "Yeah, actually."

"Oh."

"What?" Tony gave him a confused look, not understanding the shock that was now radiating off Steve. "It's not like it was an ugly vessel. You should've seen Zachariah's." _That_ one had looked like a sleazy businessman right down to the shifty eyes.

"I'm thinking," Steve said carefully, "that your other selves are a lot more nostalgic than we first thought."

It took Tony a moment to realize just what Steve meant by that. "You mean they're both running around as who I used to look like?"

"Guess so."

"Huh." Tony hadn't expected that, but it made sense – it was the form both Loki and the Trickster were most comfortable with, and definitely attracted less attention than walking around looking like Tony Stark. "You didn't mention that earlier."

"Didn't think appearance was really that important," Steve said. "And I didn't know that they were copying who you looked like before." He paused. "Were you really that short?"

"Oh, shut up," Tony said affectionately. "I'll have you know that was a perfectly respectable height when I first possessed him. It's not my fault the average height keeps going up." He gave Steve a critical look that was only offset by the grin twitching at his lips.

"I _wasn't_ this tall to begin with," Steve said huffily, but he was also grinning. "You know…" His voice dropped, and there was a small flush to his cheeks. "You were kinda cute back then, too."

Tony couldn't ignore the heat coming off of Steve or the way his soul pulsed. He waited a beat before responding. " _Kinda_ cute?" He put all the affront he possibly could into his voice.

Steve blushed scarlet, turning his face before Tony could get the full view of it. His next words were barely audible. "I thought so, anyway."

Recognizing that this conversation was quickly sliding into waters that he wasn't quite sure how to navigate, Tony studied his feet for a few seconds before saying, "The serum wasn't the thing that gave you your looks."

Clearing his throat, Tony tried to change the subject. "Anything else you wanted to talk about?" It was so graceless he practically cringed.

He could almost taste the words on Steve's tongue, and he waited, giving him the time he needed to get his thoughts in order.

But nothing came. Steve swallowed loudly, his fingers tightening briefly where they were clutching the edge, and then he said in a deliberately bright voice, "I'm really glad you reconsidered."

It wasn't what Steve had wanted to say originally, but Tony knew something of keeping words to himself until the time was right. Still, he wasn't quite sure what Steve was referring to. "Reconsidered?"

Steve turned slightly to face Tony. "You – when you were Gabriel – you didn't want to consider going back at all. You were so against the idea…" He inhaled slowly through his mouth, briefly glancing down to the space between their bodies. "So I was wondering…why did you?"

Gabriel turned away, his eyes focusing on a spot in the farthest corner of the galaxy. "It was Gadreel," he said finally. "He…pushed hard for me to change my mind. And I…I needed to _know_. What was it about you all that I had chosen to stay with you? It didn't make any sense, and I didn't like _not_ knowing." He gave Steve a lopsided smile, refocusing on the other's face. "So I came back to see what it was about my human self that had my little brother so insistent that we had free will."

"Did you find out?"

Gabriel tilted his head, remembering… A shiver ran through him, and shaking his head, he briefly touched the warmth Steve's soul exuded. "I was…shaken." _Scared._ "I thought that merging would help." Exhaling slowly, his eyes closed. "I also needed to know – to fill in the gaps."

"Did you?"

"Some of them." The ones that involved this universe. "There's still a big one that starts where my memories as Gabriel leave off and goes until I ended up here."

Steve was silent for a moment. "Did it help?" he asked. "With – whatever you were trying to deal with?"

Gabriel considered his answer before he spoke. "A little. At least now I know what I'm dealing with better."

"That's good." Steve smiled, a small but honest reflex. "At least you're back together now."

"Eh, mostly."

"Let me be happy about _one_ thing." Steve elbowed Gabriel. "You were so _formal_ when you were just Gabriel. You were…"

"More like Gadreel?" Gabriel suggested.

Steve looked like he hadn't thought of it that way. "Yeah, actually. Is that just Heaven's influence, or…?"

"More like the lack of any influence _but_ Heaven." Gabriel leaned back so that his back was resting on the balcony. "It's not like we don't have inside jokes or anything, but it's really different. And, in retrospect, the jokes came later once we had things to joke _about_."

"What do angels joke about?" Steve sounded honestly curious.

"Most of them don't really make sense in English." There was one thing that he'd heard the younger angels tossing around as a joke, but the literal translation of it into English lost all the fun. "It'd be like you trying to explain a French joke to someone who doesn't know the language."

"And you understand all of them?"

"Doesn't mean I know how to translate a joke that depends on the differing rules between languages." Gabriel shrugged. "I can't translate understanding."

"That makes sense." Steve looked thoughtful for a moment. "What did angels even do? I mean—" he must have realized that Gabriel didn't get what he was asking. "I know you – well – you're supposed to be meant to watch over humanity and stuff."

"And?" Gabriel raised one eyebrow.

"Well, what did you do before humanity?"

Gabriel still didn't get what Steve was asking. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe I'm saying it wrong." Steve paused, and Gabriel could tell he was searching for the words. "Isn't there anything you did for fun?"

It took Gabriel a moment to cast his mind back to a time before humanity had ever been in the cards, to a point where it had really just been the angels and their Father. _Fun_ hadn't really been a thing back then, not the way it was thought of now. Or how humans thought of it.

They hadn't been designed to have fun. It had been something that Gabriel had learned over time, and it was something he hoped the rest of his family picked up now that they could spend time on Earth and among their Father's Creation.

"Spent time with each other," Gabriel said finally. "There wasn't a lot to _do_ back then, really. But when He started putting other lifeforms in the universe and seeing what happened, that's also when we started getting other jobs."

"You're saying you just hung out with each other all the time?" Steve sounded almost disappointed.

Gabriel shrugged. "Until Dad got around to creating stuff _other_ than us, like I said, not much else to do." He paused, glancing at Steve. "I did like flying."

"Flying?"

"Yeah. Just around. Brand-new universe, I was curious." That had been fun, even if he hadn't done it as often as he was making it sound like he had. Flying was still one of his favorite pastimes, as the universe was still growing and expanding, and there was always more to see.

Not that he really made the time to go and visit other planets. But still…they were intriguing enough that he could see himself taking a few days (or years) when the time was right.

"Brand-new?" Steve was shaking his head. "I forget you were around back then sometimes."

It was one of Gabriel's favorite things about Steve. "Hey, if you'd seen what it looked like back then you'd have gone and explored, too."

"I'm not judging you."

"Didn't think you were." Gabriel nudged Steve's foot with his own, grinning easily. "The Trickster may be who-knows-where, but I can still get a joke."

"Good to know," Steve said. "That means I don't have to call off Clint in case you take it the wrong way."

"Ah, we're all friends here. Clint wouldn't do anything that dangerous."

"We were more worried about your sense of humor," Steve said slowly, not meeting Gabriel's eyes. "Because, ah…" His eyes flickered back to the tower behind them.

"It's kinda fucked up," Gabriel provided.

"Well, no…" Steve winced, apparently remembering just how bad Gabriel's sense of humor really was. "Kind of? But I was more thinking about how Gadreel reacted the first few days."

His brother had looked like an adorable puppy. Gabriel seriously had to resist the urge to coo at him. "How he didn't react, you mean?"

"Yeah." Steve nodded once, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smile.

"So…" Tony leaned back, pressing his palms into the warm surface of the balcony. "We good?"

Steve studied his face for a minute too long to be entirely casual before he murmured, smiling softly, "We're good."

* * *

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	9. Chapter 9

When Gadreel let them all know that he had sensed the Trickster inside New York City, James took one look at everyone present in the room, noticed all the rather disgusted and reluctant looks, and resigned himself to a rather small team.

Luckily Steve was willing to go along, even though James saw him stashing what seemed like an entire box of protein bars in his utility belt. Loki and Gadreel volunteered as well, but Tony opted out with a small head shake, lips thin.

"I need a little bit more time," Tony said, standing too stiffly to be natural. "Just make sure he doesn't do anything too insane."

"Your definition of insane and mine are two completely different things," Steve told him.

"Yes, point." Tony waved them off. "It's your call, but please don't stab him with anything pointy." He was looking at Gadreel.

"I wouldn't," Gadreel assured him. "He can't harm me."

"Doesn't mean he can't make life unpleasant."

With those words in mind, along with the story that Steve and the others had about the insane maze the Trickster had cooked up for them, James was seriously wondering what he was getting himself into. It was one thing to deal with super-powered menaces that just wanted to hurt someone, but another to deal with something else that wasn't even _human_ and kept hurting – or more often, killing people out of a twisted sense of judgment.

The worst part was that it wasn't even like James could disagree with him.

Given the opportunity, James would gleefully take another chance to castrate/torture/kill his handlers in HYDRA. It was something that he'd never told Steve, simply because he knew what the other would think of it.

"On the plus side, we know what we're going into," Steve said brightly, bouncing slightly on his feet.

"Is that very positive?" Gadreel tilted his head curiously. "The others didn't seem to think so."

"I have yet to think of a suitable way to murder him," Loki said before Steve could respond, "so please take us there now before I do."

"You're not going to kill him," Steve said.

Loki looked bored, but James could see how his fingers kept flickering with green light, as if he was making certain his magic was in reach. "Perhaps not, but it is still an entertaining thought."

"I think it would be best if it stayed a thought," Gadreel said, looking mildly put off at how blasé Loki was over killing the Trickster.

Looking aggravated now, Loki's response was snappish. "It will remain a thought, I assure you. Are you going to take us there, or will I have to?"

Gadreel's jaw tightened, and a second later there was a dizzying sense of displacement before they landed in a dank warehouse that smelled of roasting meat.

James suppressed a gag, breathing in through his mouth. He had been through worse, he reminded himself. He _had_.

It didn't mean it was pleasant breathing it in, as it cast him back to being with the 107th in a war zone.

Steve's reaction was less subtle with a small "Oh my God."

The source of the burning meat was instantly apparent with the roasting human body on fire. A healthy distance away and with a rather pinched look on his face was the being they had been searching for.

"Okay," was the first thing the Trickster said. " _That_ one wasn't me, so don't go getting all high-and-mighty on me again."

"You mean you don't set people on fire?" James asked, casting his eyes back to the burning body before he could stop himself.

"I didn't set _him_ on fire," the Trickster corrected him.

That wasn't making him feel better. "So if _you_ didn't do it…"

"I distinctly remember a puzzle involving fire in a certain maze," Loki said, eyes narrowed.

"It's not like you got burnt." The Trickster rolled his eyes. "And one case of fire doesn't mean I'm responsible for _all_ of them. Am I suddenly the culprit in every arson case in the last week?"

"Tony's set a lot of things on fire," Steve said rather nasally. James glanced over to see him desperately trying to breathe through his mouth. Sometimes those enhanced senses were really awful. "He thinks it's funny."

The Trickster shrugged. "Maybe it is. Still didn't do it."

"Then who _did_?" James asked, pointedly gesturing around the empty space.

"Do I look like I know?" The Trickster affected an exasperated tone, spreading his arms. "Maybe the guy who took a header out that giant hole in the window, since he was _actually here_ when all this shit went down. Unfortunately, I only caught the last bit of the show."

Gadreel stiffened, his eyes narrowing slightly. He disappeared a split-second later. James barely had time to recover from the sudden absence before he was back, a soaked man clothed in black in his arms. He was also dripping blood.

The Trickster eyed the group with something like disappointment. "Huh. You work fast."

"He was dying," Gadreel said stiffly, setting the man down on the grungy floor. He put two fingers to his head, and the worst of the wounds that James could see through the torn-open holes in his clothes closed shut, although the blood didn't disappear.

"And now he is not," Loki said, eyes flickering up from the now-healed man to the Trickster. "I suppose this was your idea of a distraction?"

"Well, ideally, you'd have all gone rushing after him to satisfy your hero complexes or whatever," the Trickster said idly, "But it was more like a fortunate coincidence. I'm gonna take a wild guess here and say you won't believe me if I say I haven't actually done anything."

"The obituaries we pulled up say otherwise," Steve pointed out.

"I meant here specifically, but whatever floats your boat." The Trickster looked warier than the last time they'd met. "What, did you want a rematch? 'Cause that can be arranged."

James opened his mouth, but Steve beat him to the punch, sounding so damn _earnest_ as he said, "We just want this to work out. Tony's my friend, and I want him to be okay."

"As if that would work," Loki muttered under his breath, looking pained.

The Trickster looked like he shared Loki's feelings. "You're serious," he deadpanned. "Really."

"Of course!" Steve also looked super eager.

James eyed him for a few more seconds before realizing that this was complete bullshit and he might as well go all in. "Uh, yeah. That's his serious face, in case you couldn't tell." He could practically feel the holes Loki and Gadreel were boring into his back.

"Yeah, well, I'd _love_ to stay here and chat my feelings out with Mr. Stars-and-Stripes," the Trickster said, looking just as done with them as a whole, "but I've really got better things to be doing."

"But I haven't yet talked to you about your favorite recipes!" Steve protested.

It took James another second before he added, trying not to sound as bemused as he felt, "Candy recipes."

"Are you two _drunk_?" Loki asked incredulously.

"They have no alcohol in their blood," Gadreel said rather tentatively.

The Trickster looked utterly bemused, gaze flickering to Loki and Gadreel like they were in some kind of "wtf" fellowship.

"So you don't have any?" Steve pressed, a shit-eating grin on his face that James recognized from their heydays.

"There's no way you're being serious."

"It's for Tony," James said, keeping his face blank as the Trickster's eyes fell on him. "He really likes candy, too. And you seem to have…good taste."

"We figured you'd—"

"All right." Steve didn't get halfway through the sentence before the Trickster's hand moved in a sharp line, cutting off his voice. "I don't know _what_ you're doing, and if you weren't here to do who-knows-what to me I'd commend you on the bullshit, really."

Gadreel frowned, doing his own hand gesture. "That wasn't nice." The words were bland.

"I'm not nice." James suddenly understood what Steve meant when he had described the Trickster's smirk as "ominous." "And FYI, don't lecture someone on being nice while undoing their handiwork."

" _I_ was doing him a favor," Gadreel said. "Silencing others really isn't something you should be doing."

"And yet, I just did." The Trickster made a thoughtful face. " _Huh._ It's like I actually don't care what you think _._ Crazy, huh?"

"I believe we already knew that," Loki said. "Seeing as how that you have not tried to put us through another accursed ' _test_ ,' I assume you will not be doing so after all?"

"He would not get past me a second time regardless," Gadreel said, his tone softly threatening.

Steve opened his mouth, probably to spew off another line of bullshit, but James dug his elbow into his side before he could, shaking his head subtly. They were both horribly outclassed here, along with the poor sap that James was 95% sure was faking his unconsciousness.

"Why are any of you even here, anyway?" the Trickster asked. "I _haven't_ done anything. Yet. You've got angel mojo and crap, you can tell that. Is this more superhero bullshit about protecting 'your' city?" His tone made air quotes unnecessary.

Gadreel pulled a face that was pure Tony Stark. "We just thought we'd see how you were doing. After all, you _are_ trespassing in _our_ city."

"Besides," Loki said offhandedly, his eyes glinting, "we would be remiss if we did not welcome you back after the _lovely_ test you put us through."

"Oh, so this is _payback."_ The Trickster's eyes glinted as his smirk returned. "Didn't this just get a whole lot more interesting."

"Why do you think I agreed to come confront you again?" Loki's voice was ominously threatening, and James suddenly doubted the wisdom of letting Loki come (not that they could have stopped him, really). But despite the obvious threat, the Trickster just grinned like he wasn't facing down a god.

Or an Asgardian. Whichever.

"You're assuming I'm interested enough in you to pay attention to any threats." The Trickster didn't look phased in the least. "No offense, but Loki's already been done."

"I'm quite aware of your other self," Loki said quietly in a tone that boded absolutely nothing good. "I think you should be a bit more concerned for yourself."

"Uh-huh. And you've done a _great_ job so far convincing me of that."

James couldn't help but tense warily as the Trickster's gaze moved to him. "Face it," the latter said, probably still addressing Loki, "you're just not that interesting. Your new friend here, though…"

"If you're going to get into my head, that's already been done," James said tersely. "There's nothing you can pull up that I haven't already been over myself."

"Wanna bet?"

"Are you really willing to try that again?" Gadreel's voice was threatening, something like thunder hidden in it.

"You think you're the only one who can punish people?" James didn't flinch as the Trickster looked at him. "We do enough of that ourselves."

"Oh, I'm aware." The Trickster's grin was sharp. "But your system has a few…gaps. That's where I come in. I'm familiar with your 'punishments.'"

James inhaled slowly, metal fingers curling into a fist. "I wasn't talking about the legal system."

"Oh?" The Trickster's eyebrows rose. "Intriguing."

He moved almost too quick to see, making James jump back when he poked into the ex-assassin's personal space. "What _did_ you mean, then?"

James almost didn't say it, but there was something like curiosity in the Trickster's eyes. "We punish ourselves," he said quietly. "Where do you think guilt comes from?" Clint had called it "self-flagellation" on a more memorable occasion, only to shut up on the matter once Natasha pointed out that he did the same thing.

"Clint tried that already," Steve said flatly, all hint of his earlier mood gone. "It didn't work."

"Damn right it didn't." The Trickster was still grinning, not backing away. "What's there to be guilty about? They deserved it."

James didn't twitch, letting a rather ruthless grin out. "You think I regret that?" He didn't blink, holding the Trickster's eyes. "You're slipping if you think that's what it is."

" _Oh."_ The Trickster sounded intrigued, leaning even closer. "This is _new._ I was talking about _my_ victims." He let out a whistle. "How the hell did someone like you end up in cahoots with _this_ righteous boyband?"

"Bucky—" Steve started, only to cut off when James raised his hand.

"I am what I am," James said, "not what they made me. I don't kill anymore." Putting his left hand to the Trickster's chest, he pushed him away. "If you can really read minds, you'd see that."

"Maybe I like it better when I can get you to tell me," the Trickster retorted. "What a spoilsport. And here I thought I'd found someone interesting."

"I think that if you found me interesting, I'd be in deep shit," James said, letting a hint of humor creep into his tone. "I'll settle for being boring."

"Why the hell would you do that? Boring's no fun." The Trickster groaned, finally stepping back and turning in a circle so that his back was to them for a brief moment. " _Humans._ Just when you think you get 'em, they go and do crap like this, I tell you."

"That is what makes them humans," Gadreel said. "It is also what makes them interesting."

"As if." The Trickster snorted. "What, their inability to make up their damn minds?"

"What makes them interesting to you?" Loki appeared disarmingly disinterested, but his hand was still clenched and sparking occasionally with green.

The Trickster shot him a grin that made James think the Trickster knew exactly how much of Loki was pure bullshit. "When they stop caring about morals, obviously."

"Incidentally," Steve said, "that's also when they lose their humanity."

Well, James wouldn't go _quite_ that far, but practically everyone he knew who didn't have morals were absolute monsters. The Red Skull, as far as he knew, had no qualms about doing anything. Doom, for all he'd been an egomaniacal dictator, did have some.

So Steve had a point, even if it hurt because at an earlier point in his life, James _didn't_ have morals. Because he'd had nothing else to hold onto but his job.

"Like I said," the Trickster said, another slow smile spreading over his face. "That's when they get interesting."

The look Steve had on his face was probably unrecognizable to anybody but James, because no one had such a unique way of expressing disgust and horror as Steve.

"You _manipulate_ them," Steve bit out a few seconds later, his cheeks slightly flushed.

"Did you not notice that before?" the Trickster asked dryly. "'Sides, I don't manipulate them into doing anything they wouldn't already do. Most of the time, I just wait for the right moment."

"Is that why you enjoy a lack of morals?" Gadreel asked quietly. "Because it makes it easier for you to find more _victims_?"

"Well, sure. Why else would I care?" The Trickster stuck his hands in his pockets. "What else do you guys do for me? I mean, I'll give you credit, you did invent candy." He shrugged. "Not much else worth mentioning."

"'Not much else,'" Loki repeated, looking utterly done with the Trickster. "You cannot think of _anything_?" Oddly enough, James thought he heard a note of actual surprise.

"Just because _you've_ got an elevated sense of their worth doesn't mean the rest of us give a damn," was the immediate retort.

Loki studied him for a moment, a slight furrow between his brows.

The Trickster looked vaguely alarmed. "What's that look for?"

"I pity you," Loki said eventually, his face smoothing out. "All this time spent around humans, and you clearly have no idea what you are missing. I suppose that is the result of interacting with the worst of humanity."

" _Pity_?" The Trickster sounded genuinely shocked. He'd stopped dead, having been moving from side to side without really leaving one spot until Loki had spoken. He made several false starts to speak again; Loki had quite obviously rattled him. " _Pity_? Because I don't like _humans_?"

"You live in a world of humans, and you have no idea what you are missing," Loki said, unruffled by the Trickster's reaction. "Because you are too full of yourself to consider that perhaps you are wrong."

The Trickster stared for another moment, and then seemed to collect himself. "Well, you're not the first to call that a bad thing."

"And yet you have failed to learn," Loki noted dryly.

"I'm never wrong."

James almost called the Trickster's bullshit, but it was Loki's eyebrows practically disappearing into his hair that did the trick.

"That was a lie," Loki said after a few seconds, his voice saccharine sweet. "Everyone has been wrong at some point."

"A failing of having a conscious mind," Gadreel said, "or so I'm told."

"A failing of not being a Trickster, more like."

The twin looks Gadreel and Loki shot the Trickster both clearly said " _bitch, please_ ," and were accompanied by truly impressive eyebrows.

"I may not know much about your kind," Gadreel said, "but I have learned that you deal in concrete matters, not shades of gray. And I'm afraid, Trickster, that this world you have found yourself in is _very_ gray."

"Like no one else has ever used that argument?" The smirk had found its way back onto the Trickster's face. "Like you're the first people who ever confronted me. I don't care about gray. I simplify."

"Like a kid would," Steve said. "And I don't think you'd like that comparison."

"Not the first time I've been called a kid." The Trickster kept grinning. "Still not the worst I've been called."

"If you would like to be treated as a child, that can be arranged," Loki offered, his tone carefully bland in a way that suggested something was about to be messed up.

James saw Steve edge backwards as if in preparation for whatever Loki was planning. After a second's thought, James did so as well, making the movement casual.

"I'm older than you, sweetheart." The Trickster's smile was almost venomous. "How old are you – a thousand? Come back when you're an actual match for me."

Gadreel's face was set like stone, and, stepping forward, he raised his hand. "I don't have to hurt you to take you out." A bright, silver light started glowing from the center of his palm, his eyes following suit. "Would you like to try it?"

"I thought you were here to talk me down or some other crap like that." There was an undeniable wariness in the Trickster's eyes, which were fixed on Gadreel. He'd backed up, putting a more comfortable distance between him and the angel.

"You know what our goal is in the end," Gadreel said, his eyes and hand still glowing eerily. He took a step forward, not seeming to care that the Trickster in turn edged backwards. "We can either do it now painfully, or if you would rather turn yourself in…"

"Fuck that. You can try all you want, you're not getting me."

James wasn't quite sure what happened next, only that Gadreel disappeared from view, reappearing behind the Trickster, bringing his hand down towards the other's face. But the moment his fingers touched skin, the Trickster fizzled out in blue mist.

Gadreel looked utterly pissed, his fingers curling into a fist as his hand dropped down to his side. "An illusion." Taking a breath and releasing it, that unearthly light in his eyes faded to his natural hue. "He must have escaped some time ago."

Letting out his own breath, Steve's shoulders slumped slightly. "You can still sense him?"

Cocking his head, Gadreel said, "He hasn't left the city. We'll be able to find him."

Shaking his head, James crouched down by the masked guy in black, poking him in the shoulder. "You can stop faking now. We're not here to hurt you."

It took a few seconds as the man seemed to consider James's words, and then he nodded slightly, his chest expanding as he took a deeper breath. Throat rippling as he swallowed, the man sat up, ignoring the hand James offered him.

The mask was pitch black, James realized, studying him. There weren't any eye holes, and the only visible features of his face were his scruffy jaw and mouth. He could see pale, bloody skin peeking out of the slashes in his clothes. Eyeing a streak of dark blood on the concrete floor that looked like the guy had practically been dragged across the floor, James was thankful Gadreel had healed him.

"You're all right?" Steve asked when the man didn't immediately speak.

The man's head tilted slightly as if he was listening to something, face turning to where Steve was standing. "Thanks to your friend," was his eventual response, his voice gruff.

"You're welcome," Gadreel said, the corner of his lips pulling into a small, pleased smile. "I healed…almost everything I could find."

"Almost"?

The man shifted. "I noticed." His head swiveled, that eyeless black mask looking at each of them in turn. "What are you doing here?"

"Since Gadreel fished you out of the river half-dead, I think that's what we should be asking you," James said bluntly.

"Anyone fancy some barbecue?" Loki asked idly, his gaze flickering to the still burning corpse by the wall. He sounded so much like Tony that James mentally groaned.

The masked man's nose scrunched up in evident disgust, his lips curling. "It was an accident," he said finally, the words stilted.

Gadreel was studying him. "He would have killed you," he said evenly. "There is no need to regret what you did."

"You still didn't answer my question," James said.

It was a few seconds before the man heaved a sigh, rolling his shoulders. "I was following a lead. It didn't pan out."

"And you ended up half-dead," James concluded, nodding. "It happens."

"Do you think we could take this out of here?" Steve asked, voice pinched. "I'd really rather not stay here any longer than necessary with _that_." He purposely didn't look at the burning corpse.

James had sadly gotten rather used to the smell of roasting meat, but that didn't mean he wasn't battling a sense of vague nausea. From the way the masked guy was breathing carefully through his mouth, he thought Steve wasn't the only one suffering.

"I'll get my own ride," the masked man said, raising a gloved hand as if bidding them goodbye.

"There's no need," Gadreel assured him, close enough now that he could touch the other's shoulder. "Let's go."

It was only a second, and then James was breathing in untainted air with a sense of utter relief. Not even the sudden displacement was enough to dampen his pleasure at being out of that disgusting warehouse.

The masked man didn't seem to share James's pleasure, staggering back from Gadreel as if dizzy. "Wh- _what_ —" He stumbled away from them, practically falling onto the couch behind him.

Loki had gone to the windows, peering out at the obnoxious billboard that lit up the entire room in technicolor. "What a droll display. How do you manage?"

"How did you do that?" the man demanded, his knuckles white where he was clutching the couch cushions.

"You were thinking of it," Gadreel said. "My apologies, but it is a force of old habit that I am still working on breaking."

"Anything that got us out of that," Steve said, heaving in a deep breath. "Five more minutes and I would've been sick."

Loki shot Steve a look. "You seemed well enough to try and bullshit the _Trickster_. Next time you try something like that, let us know beforehand."

"It was spur of the moment," Steve said unapologetically. "We had to throw him off his guard. It worked."

"For like five minutes," James said. "Seriously, _recipes_?"

"You played along," Steve retorted, giving James a shit-eating grin that he'd seen too often.

"I thought you had a plan," James said. "Not whatever the hell that ended up being."

"He's right," Gadreel said, looking between the two. "It worked, as I suspect the Trickster decided to leave while you were 'bullshitting' him." The air quotes were practically audible. "He used our own distraction to his advantage."

"Maybe next time you decide to have a conversation with a nutcase, try doing it when I'm not there," the man said, standing. He edged around the couch, putting more distance between them. "What was he even doing there?"

It was a good question, as the Trickster hadn't seemed upset at them for rescuing this guy. He also hadn't had anything to do with the burning corpse, so what _had_ he been doing? Watching a fight?

Steve seemed to be thinking the same. "What _was_ he doing there?" He glanced at Gadreel.

"It doubtlessly had something to do with whatever we missed before arriving," Loki said, his eyes on the masked man. "Do you have anything to say about that?"

"I don't know why he'd be interested in that," the masked man said. "It was just me and the dead guy."

"You're leaving something out," Loki retorted.

The man didn't look surprised, but James couldn't get much from his mouth alone. "There was Fisk," he admitted, "but he wasn't there for long."

"Who's Fisk?" Gadreel glanced at Steve, as though he might hold the answer.

Steve just shrugged, his eyes going to the window as if he might find the answer out there. "This is…Hell's Kitchen, isn't it?" He looked back at the others. "There was something on the news earlier about a guy who was going to rebuild this place or something. I think he said his name was Fisk, but I wasn't paying too much attention. That was about the time that – uh…" He glanced at the masked man.

Something to do with Tony, then, James assumed.

The man snorted, the sound pure disgust. "It figures."

Steve's eyes snapped to his face. "What do you mean by that?"

If James had a better look at the guy's nose, he was sure he'd see his nostrils flaring. "While you're busy worrying about things happening across an ocean, you don't see your city crumbling around you." Exhaling heavily, the man turned away. "You should go. There's nothing you can do here."

With a jolt of vague alarm, James recognized that "come fight me" look on Steve's face. "You think we don't _notice_ —"

"I don't _think_ ," the man snapped angrily, "I _know_. You're up in that tower of yours; what do you see up there? You haven't even noticed the corruption at your feet. Go on and deal with your sewer systems and robots. I've got this handled."

"The Trickster is about to handle it for you, if this Fisk is the type of man I think he may be," Loki said quietly, making the masked man turn around. "There was no other reason for him to be there, and judging by the vitriol in your voice when you spoke his name, I suspect that this Fisk may be in for a very unpleasant surprise in his future. You may accuse us of looking too far to see this city, but I assure you that we have dealt with things you would not believe."

The masked man's mouth was a tight line as he faced Loki. "Then explain them," he said. "Who was the man you were talking to?"

"No one you'd want to handle," Steve said.

"No one he _could_ handle," Loki corrected, eyes scanning the masked man from head to toe.

There was no change in the man's tone as he said, "That didn't answer my question."

Gadreel sighed, his jacket rustling as he shifted. "A friend of sorts. Albeit a rather confused one."

James resisted the urge to say "no shit."

"You're not exactly making your case here," the man said, the words biting. "I know he wasn't human. And neither are you."

"Hey," James protested. "I'm human."

The man didn't look at him. "They aren't." His gesture encompassed the general area of where Gadreel and Loki were. "What's the deal with this 'trickster'? As far as I could tell, he's just another self-righteous ass."

"And you would know all about those," Loki said pointedly.

A muscle ticked in the man's jaw. "I know enough."

Steve wet his lips, breathing out slowly. "It's a bit of a long story, and it's not one you'd believe."

"It isn't ours to tell," Gadreel said.

"I heard enough of what you were talking about to know that this guy isn't going to stop," the man snapped, annoyance clear in his tone. "He's unreasonable, even if he wants to make himself out otherwise. And if he's running around killing people, then I need to know what I'm dealing with."

"This is not your concern," Loki told him in a rather patronizing tone that had James wincing. If his read of this man's character was right, that kind of tone wasn't going to go over well at all. "If you would recall, we found you half-dead from injuries inflicted by a _human_. This Trickster would eat you for breakfast."

The man's hands curled into fists, uncurled, and then fisted again. "You think not telling me anything is going to help?" he bit out through gritted teeth. "Or would you rather I go running off and right into his arms?"

There was a thumping noise at the door to the apartment, followed by someone rather drunkenly calling someone "Matt" and asking him to open the door.

There was no response from the masked man other than a subtle twitch of his head. James barely caught it, but it was there.

"We are not trying to get you killed," Gadreel said tightly, ignoring the noise. "We are _trying_ to convince you that it would truly be a bad idea to involve yourself with a being you know nothing of. You know little less than we do."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" the man asked tersely. "Do you realize what you're asking me to do here? I am not leaving the people of this city unprotected because you can't keep a handle on whatever the hell this _trickster_ is. Either tell me what exactly he is so I can defend myself or get out." He flung his hand out, pointing almost but not exactly at the door. James wondered how thick the mask he was wearing was.

The voice at the door had become more insistent, but none of them were paying any attention to whoever it was, letting the disturbance become background noise.

"We're not leaving if the first thing you do is run after this guy and try and find him," Steve said firmly.

"I can take care of myself," the man said angrily.

"Yes, which is why you were half-dead," Loki agreed wryly.

The man stiffened, his jaw tensing. "That won't be happening again."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "Because you will remain here at home?"

"Like _hell_ ," the man snapped, his voice raising on the last word. Cutting himself off, he drew in a sharp breath through his teeth, his fingers flexing at his sides. "I have a job to do," he continued more quietly. "And this trickster isn't going to stop me."

"Running around in a mask and beating up bad guys in the middle of the night doesn't exactly pay well," James said casually. "I'm sure you have an _actual_ job you can do."

"What? You gonna tie me up?" Chuckling, the man grinned, the gesture more a baring of teeth than anything polite. "That's not going to work."

"You look kinda wiggly," James acknowledged, eyeing the guy's lean but muscular frame. He definitely wasn't built as a linebacker, but he didn't look like a pushover. Anyone who was still alive after being as torn up as he had been was definitely tough.

"We weren't going to be tying anyone up," Steve added, shooting James a warning look. "We don't do that."

"Then I guess we've reached a stalemate," the man said, folding his arms across his chest.

Taking an irritated sounding breath, Steve's lips twitched downwards at the corners. "We don't want you hurt if there's something we could have done."

"And yet you don't want to tell me who this guy is," the man said. James thought he might possibly be raising his eyebrows, but that mask hid just about everything except for a possibly amused quirk of his lips.

The fact of the matter was, unless you actually _lived_ with Tony or knew him personally, no one would believe them if they explained. And as far as James knew, the Trickster was one-of-a-kind in this universe. Where Tony was originally from was a different question, but he didn't speak about it often.

Explaining the Trickster was one thing, but this guy had absolutely nothing to do with it other than a horrible case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Besides, it wasn't as if the Trickster would be running around wreaking havoc for much longer.

As soon as Tony had himself properly sorted out, he'd be taking care of his errant self and then they could go and pick up the other Loki.

After a few seconds of staring at the masked man and possibly staring into his soul – James wasn't sure, but he thought that was a thing angels did – Gadreel started, "The Trickster—"

"What the _fuck_ are you guys doing in Matt's apartment?" an unfamiliar voice shouted.

Everyone spun, looking at the newcomer standing on the stairs in the corner. He was slightly heavy-set with longish blond hair, and he seemed to be more or less sober now instead of drunkenly banging on the door. He was also a mixture of bewildered and scared, eyes flickering between all of them.

Damn it.

James should have noticed something was off when the guy shouting for "Matt" had stopped.

"You—" The guy looked like he wasn't sure who he was supposed to be concentrating on. He settled on Steve. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"You know him?" The masked man sounded puzzled, which was odd as Steve was pretty recognizable thanks to his star-spangled costume.

The blond guy looked startled. "That's _Captain America,_ of course I—" he frowned, looking quizzically at the masked man. "'Course I've heard of him," he finished, but still looked put off, like he couldn't tell _exactly_ what was bugging him. "How the hell did you all get in here?"

Steve opened his mouth, shut it, frowned slightly, and glanced helplessly to James. Gadreel and Loki were no help at all, Loki looking far too amused for his own good.

James took pity on him. "There's a door," he pointed out blandly, pointing to it with a thumb.

"Which was locked!" the guy protested. He took another step down, groped along the wall, and then came back with a white stick that he brandished threateningly. "Avengers or not, I _will_ call the police! What did you do with Matt?" he demanded angrily.

"He's fine," the masked man said, raising his hands placatingly. "He's safe."

"Why – because you _kidnapped_ him? Or are you going to blow him up?" the other one accused him.

"I didn't blow _anything_ up!" the masked man objected, his voice raising again. His mouth snapped shut a second later.

The other man squinted at him, confusion once again flickering over his face. "Yeah, well," he said finally, fingers tightening on that stick, "I don't believe you. That still doesn't answer my question as to what you're doing in my friend's apartment. With the _Avengers_ no less!"

It took a moment, but then a truly terrifying grin crossed Loki's face. "Oh, this is just _rich_. I have not had this much amusement in years."

"I fail to see the entertainment in this," Gadreel said, brow furrowing in confusion.

"This isn't funny," the masked man said sharply.

"I beg to differ," Loki said, still grinning broadly. "All that is missing is the popcorn."

"Loki," Steve sighed, the word filled with irritation. "Please…"

"I'm giving you five seconds!" the other man interrupted them, his eyes flickering between all of them. "Tell me where Matt is or I'm calling the police!"

"He's safe," the masked man assured him, something close to panic in his voice.

"Yeah," James agreed, eyes scanning the other's figure. "He's _pretty_ safe." Considering this Matt was standing right here and in perfect shape thanks to Gadreel's handy healing abilities, he was perfectly safe.

Matt's friend shook the stick at James. "I'm asking the Devil, not you!"

"Is that your title?" Loki asked Matt, his nose wrinkling. "I must admit, you do not seem much like the Devil to me. For one thing, he was rather more volatile."

"Loki, please," Steve repeated, looking rather like he wanted to drag him off somewhere private.

Matt glanced at Loki – or he seemed like he did. It was rather difficult to tell given the mask. "It wasn't my idea."

"Just like you didn't bomb the hell out of Hell's Kitchen?" Matt's friend demanded, his fingers flexing on the stick. The more James looked at it, the more it looked like a cane for the blind. Several pieces were quickly falling into place, though he couldn't quite understand how it worked.

"I didn't do it," Matt denied, his jaw tight. "It was – it was Fisk."

"What?" Matt's friend huffed. "The guy who just announced his intention to rebuild Hell's Kitchen? That's not very likely. Next thing you'll be telling me is that Captain America over there is a Nazi."

Steve made a face of such absolute disgust that James had to bite back a grin. This really wasn't the time.

"He's lying," Matt said tightly, jaw clenching. "He thinks he's rebuilding it, but he's going to tear down every inch of it first. I'm not the bad guy here."

"Oh yeah?" Matt's friend challenged, his own jaw tightening stubbornly. "If that's really true, tell me where Matt is! And none of that 'he's safe' bullshit."

James could see that the friend wasn't going to let this drop, too worried about Matt's safety. And he could also see that Matt was extremely reluctant to let his friend know that he _was_ Matt moonlighting as a masked dude fighting crime.

That would probably put a kink in any friendship.

"He is concerned," Gadreel said, looking at Matt. "Should you not tell him and put his fears to rest?"

Matt gave a small snort, grinning briefly. "It's not going to help."

Matt's friend was frowning again, squinting at Matt as if he was trying to place him. "I must be going crazy," he muttered, blinking. In a louder voice: "Try it."

Taking a breath, Matt turned away from Gadreel, his fingers flexing nervously. He wet his lips, shifting his weight anxiously from foot to foot. Then, slowly, he reached up to his mask, pulling it up over his head, his face turned downwards.

James could have pinpointed the exact moment when Matt's friend realized exactly what he was looking at, eyes widening, mouth falling open slightly, hands slackening on the stick he was still holding. "M-Matt?"

Taking the mask off entirely, Matt clutched it one hand, letting it fall to his side. His face was startlingly young, dark brown eyes staring off at some point on the wall over his friend's shoulder, not quite meeting the other's eyes. His voice trembled slightly as he said, "Foggy."

James took a private moment to wonder what parent named their poor child "Foggy" before deciding that it had to be a nickname. Even then, what adult went by Foggy?

The newly-named Foggy let the stick fall to the floor, taking a stumbling step backwards into the staircase. He clutched onto the bannister, face disbelieving. "You – _you're_ the Devil of Hell's Kitchen?" It was another second before he demanded, rather panicked, "Is that _blood_? Are you _bleeding_?"

"I'm fine," Matt assured him. "It's nothing."

"So that's not _your_ blood?"

Matt visibly hesitated. James could guess why – neither answer could be easily explained away.

"We should leave you to talk," Gadreel said quietly. James didn't have time to say anything before he felt like he was being swept off his feet, the sickening lurch of transport via angel fading almost immediately. The penthouse of the tower was empty, that late at night – everyone else was busy doing something in other areas.

"Give a little warning, would you?" Steve said with an edge of complaint.

"It's not like it's as bad for you," James shot at him, gripping the back of the sofa to keep himself steady. He _hated_ how disoriented flying with Gadreel (or Tony, for that matter) made him. "You're used to it by now."

"No one gets used to flying like that," Steve told him. " _No one_. Especially not if we don't get time to prepare."

Loki didn't seem at all frazzled – the bastard. "What I would have given to be a fly on the wall during that conversation…"

"It wasn't our place," Gadreel said disapprovingly.

"No, yet you were the one to take us there initially," Loki pointed out.

"It doesn't matter," Steve said, tugging off his cowl. He ran a hand through his hair, making it even wilder than it already was. "They'll figure it out. We need to focus on finding this Fisk guy. The Trickster's guaranteed to go after him next."

"I feel like I've heard of him before," James volunteered. "I can't place the name, though."

"Was it not mentioned that he had been on the news?" Gadreel asked. "Surely we can just 'look him up.'"

"Personal addresses aren't on the Internet," Steve said, "not unless you're Tony and you like doing something illegal. And if this Fisk is as dangerous as Matt was making him out to be, he's not going to just have a house lying around."

"Then how do you suggest we find him?"

"Well," Tony's voice said from a chair that had been empty mere seconds ago, "that's the handy thing about having people around that can literally sense other supernatural beings." He raised his eyebrows as the others looked at him. "We just pop in."

"We do that and he'll have already gotten to Fisk," Steve said. "Gadreel said he could sense him before."

"Probably a bit late to worry about that," Tony said, interlacing his fingers. "If I know anything about the Trickster, he doesn't wait around." Cocking his head to the side, Tony raised a finger. "Can't you sense him, brother?"

Copying Tony's head motion, Gadreel took a second before nodding. "I can."

"Then why are we still here?" Steve's voice was impatient.

"You guys go ahead," Tony said. "Distract him. I'll bring him in."

James eyed him carefully. Tony seemed calm and put together, unlike the state James had seen him in earlier. "You good for that?"

Tony's smile was flat. "As good as I'll ever be."

Looking up at Gadreel, Steve nodded, his hands curling into fists at his side. "Let's do this."

* * *

They landed just outside the apartment, which made James look questioningly at Gadreel. "Can't you get in?" He kept his voice as quiet as he could.

"I'd rather give him as little warning as possible," Gadreel replied, just as quietly.

The door opened as soon as Steve touched it, swinging inward silently under the pressure. It opened onto a pristine white hallway.

Or it _would_ have been pristine, were it not for the body leaking blood into the carpet at the other end.

"We're too late." Steve carefully approached the body, looking down at it with a frown. "I think he was shot."

That didn't seem like the Trickster's M.O., but there were definitely bullet wounds in the man's torso when James glanced at him. It was a dark-haired man with wire-frame glasses, but James was fairly sure of one thing.

"This isn't Fisk."

"And the Trickster is still here." Gadreel looked like he was trying to stare through the wall, eyes narrowed. "I can sense his presence."

James cautiously stepped over the body, trying to avoid the dark red patches on the carpet, and eased around the corner into the next room. It was a living room, just as white and pristine as the hallway, with a modern window wall looking out onto the city.

There was another body near the coffee table, this one much bigger and bearing all the signs of having gone down with a fight. James didn't look very closely as there wasn't much left of the head, but he could tell it was Fisk.

"Oh, geez." Steve's voice was strangled. "What did the Trickster _do_?"

There was an itch on the side of James's head, like he was being stared at. He turned sharply to look at the other end of the room, stopping short when he saw the desk.

The chair's back was to the three of them, but it was quite obviously occupied.

The Trickster spun around slowly, heels dragging on the floor as if he'd propped them on the desk and then let them fall as the chair moved. "What a surprise – _not._ " He still had that infernal smirk. "Like my little plot twist in the warehouse?"

"It was not entirely unexpected," Loki said evenly. "Illusions are your craft after all, are they not?"

"If that was anything but a rhetorical question, I'd be kinda worried." The Trickster was spinning a globe in his hands, obviously taken from the desk. He flicked his fingers, sending it whizzing in a circle in its mount. "What do you want now? You can't save them, even with your angel buddy here. And I really doubt you'd _want_ to."

"Every human deserves a chance," Steve said tightly, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "In any case, that's not up to you to decide. They would've been dealt with one way or another."

"Would they really?" The Trickster raised one eyebrow, the picture of skepticism. He pointed the globe at Fisk. "You think _he_ deserved to live? You think anyone would have been able to so much as _touch_ him, the way you think things should be done?"

"I suppose we won't find out," Steve said, jaw set. "Since they're dead. Besides, it isn't as if we can form an opinion on their crimes since you seem to go about just after everyone that pings your radar as having done anything 'not nice.' For all we know, they bamboozled someone at the bank."

The Trickster studied him through narrowed eyes for a moment. "Do you know how I picked something out for baldy over there?" he said conversationally. "Well, it's not like you can really tell he was bald, not anymore…and he did the exact same thing. To a guy he hired to do his dirty work, who had 'embarrassed' him." He used actual air quotes, as if tone alone couldn't possibly convey the depths of how little embarrassment there had actually been. "You may not have a great opinion of me, but believe this – the punishment _always_ fits the crime."

"And the other one?" Steve pointed over his shoulder, not looking away from the Trickster. "What was his crime?"

If this was Steve's way of distracting the Trickster, James hoped Tony showed up soon.

"Oh, he was Baldy's right-hand man," the Trickster said nonchalantly. "It's disappointing, though. I didn't have time to think of anything _good._ " He swiveled back and forth in the chair for a moment, posture slumped and frowning like he'd just been denied some sort of candy or something. "I mean, I put _thought_ into this stuff. Time. Effort. But when someone keeps getting in the way like that…"

He sighed theatrically and spun the globe again. "Ah, well, a waste's a waste but you can't turn back time."

James blinked, and then Tony was standing behind the chair, hands coming down onto the Trickster's shoulders, glowing brightly with light. The Trickster's expression contorted to one of panic, and he moved abruptly as if he was trying to jump out of the chair, but Tony – or was it Gabriel? – held him fast.

"Hey there, me," Tony said cheerfully. "Let's take a ride, shall we?" He was gone in another second, leaving no sign of his presence aside from the Trickster's sudden absence and the globe clattering to the floor.

"What the fuck" was probably the best way to describe how James felt at that moment. All that dancing around, and Tony just popped in and grabbed him like that?

Loki seemed similarly put out. "Considering the amount of trouble he gave us, I expected a bit more of a challenge."

"Be thankful there wasn't one," Steve said, giving the nearly decapacitated body one last look before turning his back to it. "We need to get back – see if he's managed to get himself back together."

"We leave Bodies One and Two here?" James asked. "Would be easier than dealing with the mess." That was just his personal opinion. There was no way they could explain this to the authorities.

"Someone else will find them," Steve agreed. "The smell alone will bring someone coming in a few days."

And if Fisk was someone important, the alarm would be raised even earlier if he didn't come into work.

Either way, they wouldn't have to deal with this.

* * *

Bruce jumped as one of the lab tables was violently shoved across the lab by a shock wave that nearly bowled him over. There was a crackle of strange energy within it, like one energy force fighting another – with near explosive results. He turned sharply to see two figures standing in a previously empty patch of space.

Tony was pinning someone against one of the other tables. Bruce was sure his surprise showed as he recognized the Trickster – hadn't Steve and the others just gone to deal with him?

"Holy shit!" Rhodey had jumped up from where he'd been leaning against the wall. He'd been talking to Tony, before Tony had gotten a strange look in his eye and abruptly vanished a while ago. "That's—"

The Trickster laughed, and Bruce almost got goosebumps. The being could have given Doom a run for his money in terms of evil laughs. "Here we are," the Trickster spat. "Right where you want me, isn't it?"

"You two, get out," Tony said sharply, without turning to look at them. "I don't want you getting caught in this."

"More like you don't want them seeing _me._ " The Trickster writhed in Tony's grip, managing to tilt himself to the side even though Tony didn't budge. Bruce felt like he was frozen under the amber gaze, still backed against one of the tables. There was a sneer pulling at the Trickster's lip.

"You all think you're getting rid of me," the Trickster snarled. "You think us being the same will help, will make me just up and vanish, well _good fucking luck_!"

"Bruce—" Rhodey had pulled at Bruce's arm, but he seemed just as transfixed.

"Get out!" Tony's voice had sharpened.

"You don't want me back." The Trickster's attention was yanked back to Tony, but Bruce could hear an edge of something like desperation. "You think you _want_ to remember all that. _You don't._ You're an _angel._ How well do you really think this is going to go?"

"You're just stalling," Tony said, voice deceptively calm. Bruce could see the tension in his posture. "Bruce, Rhodey, I'm warning you, I can't turn this thing on if you're still in the room."

This time, the Trickster's laughter was borderline maniacal. "You don't care! You think you can handle everything, let's see how well you do with me, _Gabriel_!" He was hissing in Tony's face by the end, contempt written into the lines of his face.

Bruce and Rhodey had backed towards the door at this point, nearly too drawn in by the conversation to go through it. "Tony—" Rhodey began.

" _Go_!"

Bruce slammed the door shut.

They could still see through it – it was made of glass, like most of the workshop walls. He could see Tony bent over the Trickster, keeping him pinned against the table, see Tony's hand touch the Trickster's head.

A shiver went through the latter, visible even from a distance, and before the machine lit up the workshop with a blinding light Bruce saw two Tony Starks scowling at each other.

The light was bright enough that the two of them were forced to turn away, shielding their eyes. It lasted only a moment, and when Bruce felt safe enough to try looking into the lab again, Tony was slumped against one of the tables, hands gripping the table tightly enough that Bruce could _see_ how much he was bending the metal.

"Crap." He scrambled to his feet, ignoring Rhodey's warning shout and slammed the button to open the door. Tony didn't move as he got closer, but one hand snapped out once Bruce got within a few feet.

" _Don't_ —" There was another wave of force that pushed Bruce back slightly, with a static shock and a few wavering blue sparks.

"Tony—?"

Tony made a tight, tense noise. "Talk to me about the paper you're writing." His voice was strained.

" _What_?" Was that really his priority right now?

"Talk to me!" Tony shouted. "I've got two power sources in me that _do not_ want to cooperate; I need _something_ else to concentrate on!"

"Is that really going to work?" Bruce asked anxiously, kneeling to be on Tony's level.

When Tony looked up at him, the movement was sharp, like he was having trouble moving his own body and had to force it to work. His eyes were an unusual amber color instead of their normal brown, and Bruce sucked in a sharp breath as he realized they were still the same color the Trickster's had been. He had to stop himself from leaning away, but a nagging voice in the back of his head wondered how much else there was of the Trickster still lurking under the surface.

"You're going to have to trust me," Tony said, sounding out of breath, and then winced. Part of the bench broke away under his hand, and his eyes momentarily flared a familiar blue-white while blue energy fizzled over his fingers. "Come _on_ —"

"Okay!" Bruce cast around for some detail of the paper, the details of which were somehow managing to elude him even though he'd been working on it for a month. He went for a failsafe that he had studied years ago and was still fresh in his head. "I got the Other Guy because I was an irresponsible scientist and didn't test my results. I thought I had it, that I was too smart to have to run simulations, but it ended up backfiring."

"We had a big thing in the army because of that mishap," Rhodey's relatively calm voice came from behind Bruce, only slightly strained around the edges. "I mean, I was in the Air Force, but even there we heard of the fallout around that accident. You really put that stick up General Ross's ass."

"It was already there," Bruce said, glancing back at him. "The Other Guy just drove it up even more. So…" He returned his attention to Tony, who seemed to be doing breathing exercises. "I was very big and very green and really bewildered while also really angry. It didn't make for a good combination."

"No kidding," Rhodey said. "That base was rubble afterwards."

"I'm not very sorry about it," Bruce admitted. Truth be told, while he regretted the loss of life that had come with the Other Guy and Ross going absolutely crazy about the threat, he didn't regret demolishing that particular base and all the research that had gone into it.

Tony took another breath, held it for a few seconds, and then let it out slowly, opening his eyes. They were back to brown, and his hands weren't tangled with that blue energy anymore.

"You good, Tony?" Rhodey asked quietly.

After one more breath, Tony nodded. "Yeah. I'm good now." He smiled at Bruce. "Thanks."

"I'm glad my superhero origin story helped calm you down."

"I needed something else to focus on." Tony's eyes dropped to the dents in the table. "It would've been rather volatile otherwise."

"Like before?" Rhodey asked.

"Not as violent, no." Tony rubbed his forehead briefly before flicking his fingers. Abruptly four other people appeared in the workshop, Gadreel stumbling slightly as if he had been pushing against something only for it to disappear. "Sorry about that."

Gadreel straightened, eyes scanning Tony's form. "It worked?" His voice was tense, as if he'd expected something to go wrong.

Well, he wasn't wrong about that.

"Three down, one to go," Tony confirmed, his grin a bit brighter now.

"So you…" Steve looked a bit on the nervous side. "You remember more now?"

"I've got a hole roughly the size of the Middle Ages in my memories, but everything else—" Tony tapped his head. "Is back in place."

"That much?" Loki looked surprised. "I hadn't expected the Trickster side of you to possess the majority of your memories."

"He doesn't. That's only about six centuries or so." Tony shrugged. "Which is really nothing."

"Oh, it's _nothing_ ," James said dryly. "Six centuries is _nothing_ says the guy to humans who only live seventy years on average."

"But it is the majority of your time spent among the humans, is it not?" Loki asked.

"That it is." Tony looked off to the side, making a face. "Man, those pagans got real weird towards the end."

"I thought the Trickster wasn't pagan?" Gadreel asked. "Or so you thought before."

"I wasn't at that point. But there's a bit of overlap as I was developing that role. It's not like I could just jump from pagan to trickster." Tony rubbed a hand over the table, smoothing the dents until it was like new. "As the pagans lost their power, I needed a backup. So I downgraded a little." He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal that he had redefined his identity a second time. "Lot of other trickster gods never even thought about doing the same – they thought it was degrading. I wasn't really bothered – I mean, I'd already gone from angel to pagan. Hell of a demotion, even if it was voluntary."

"Why _did_ you choose to do it?" Gadreel sounded rather lost.

Mouth twisting, Tony dropped his gaze, leaning back against the table. "I just…had it. With everything upstairs. I couldn't deal with it. And they wouldn't just _let_ me leave, so I…I remade myself. Everything after that's just about Loki, so I can't give you too much more."

Steve seemed to shake himself, resolve creeping into his eyes. "Is there anything you can give us on his capabilities?"

Tony took a moment to think. "Weeellll…don't piss him off is one. See, the thing with Loki is that he – or I, I guess, even if I don't remember – was _the_ original trickster. Take what you will from that."

"Great." James crossed his arms. "So we're dealing with the same thing."

"Not the same thing," Tony said immediately. "The gods were always tangled up with their pantheons, how they got along with other gods, places they'd avoid or just stay out of because it was some other pantheon's territory. The Trickster picked people out. Loki…if he was feeling like it he'd mess with you just because, but nothing like what the Trickster did. Not to that extreme, at least."

"So the rest of the gods started eating humans, you didn't, and yet Loki still has more morals than the Trickster?" James sounded disbelieving.

"Not all the gods did that." Tony paused, and wrinkled his nose. "I sound like some men's rights activist." He shuddered briefly. "The point is," he continued, refocusing, "all the gods that did _that_ were looking for a power-up – they were the ones who suffered the most when the Christians came in, when they started losing followers. Some of the major gods turned to that, because they lost the most compared to more minor gods, and a lot of the other ones in their pantheons followed suit."

He paused again, leaning against the table and looking lost in thought. "There were…some, that I ran into later, that did it because they could. Because they liked exercising that power. Those were the nastier gods." He laughed to himself. "Honestly, I tried to avoid those guys. Gods like Hermes, though – they never did that. Didn't need it. They were powerful enough on their own. Those were the ones I knew. I think."

"You think?" Steve questioned.

"Well, I don't _remember_ most of it, but some of the stuff from when I was a Trickster – yeah, pretty sure."

"You knew Hermes," James deadpanned. "Why am I not surprised that you were friends with the god of thieves?"

Tony smirked lightly. "He was pretty chill. Had a great sense of humor. Only problem was when he ended up as Mercury instead. Mercury was an asshole."

"Damn those pesky Romans," Rhodey said teasingly. "I guess you were lucky you weren't in that particular pantheon."

"It would've been _pret_ ty messy," Tony agreed. Raising his eyebrows, he folded his arms across his chest. "That all? 'Cause I think we have more important issues to attend to."

Steve still looked a bit as if something was chewing at him, but he nodded his head. "Let's get the others and formulate a plan."

"I don't suppose you know what the deal with Baldur is?" Rhodey asked curiously.

"Name's familiar, but that's a no." Tony shrugged apologetically. "But I can tell you that the myths are a bit more accurate for over there than here."

"So you did kill him," James said, arms crossed.

"I don't know," Tony said irritably, and then looked like he'd surprised himself with the vehemence. "I'm…I don't remember. I just know that they got more right about it than they did here. Whoever wrote the stories."

Loki was giving Tony an unreadable look. "Then," he said quietly, "we shall simply have to ask again, once you are fully yourself."

It was as good a plan as any, James figured. When had this even become his life?


	10. Chapter 10

**Woo! New chapter! The story itself is all written out by now so it's just a matter of posting the chapters.**

* * *

Unfortunately, all talk about how to get Loki to merge with Tony was ground to a halt when Clint jumped in and said accusingly, "A freaking _sphinx_?"

Blinking, Tony took a second to remember what Clint was talking about and the thought processes that had led up to him using a sphinx. "What did you expect? You practically suggested it yourself."

"You should have kept your mouth shut," Natasha told Clint without any sympathy.

"Why are you so hung up on that?" Tony asked, as Clint had been pretty obsessed with the sphinx and its innards since coming back from the maze. "We've faced worse."

"Are you—" Clint sounded half-strangled, anger pouring off him in waves. "It's not just the _sphinx_ , you _jackass_. It's what you put us through! And you're not even sorry about it, are you?"

Gabriel blinked, then hit the side of his head. "Sorry. All those memories are through the Trickster's mindset. I'm getting mixed up."

"That still wasn't very apologetic," Clint said, staring him down.

"Look, if I'd been in one piece, I wouldn't have put you through that, all right? You're my friends. So I'm sorry about it, but there's nothing I can do."

"And if we weren't your friends?" Clint didn't look away. "Would you still be sorry, then?"

Gabriel's lips thinned, his fingers tightening briefly on the fabric of his jacket sleeves. "Probably not, no," he said flatly. "Because at that point you would've done something that ended up in Trickster-me messing with you. I don't deal with the innocent."

"I think this is something that can be postponed until after we have found Loki," Gadreel interrupted thankfully, shooting Clint a look. His Grace brushed comfortingly against Gabriel's for a moment before drawing away.

"I admit I am looking forward to when there is only one Loki running around," Loki said dryly.

"We'll have to find the other one first," Peggy pointed out.

"He probably hasn't left wherever he was when you talked to him," Gabriel said. "You said he went there because there was a bunch of Norse stuff, right?"

"Yep," Natasha confirmed. "You don't think he would have left?"

"Well, it's been a while since you talked to him. He probably doesn't count you as enough of a problem to want to move." Gabriel shrugged. Loki was a bit too confident for that from what Gabriel remembered. He'd been polite but cool in the conversation he'd had with the Trickster, but the Trickster – _he_ – had known that he was outclassed and shouldn't outstay his welcome.

Rubbing his forehead, Gabriel struggled to put together the memories of the Trickster with the rest of him. It was far more confusing than having to reconcile his human and angel selves, simply because the way the Trickster thought was so different from his normal mindset. Before he had still been a mixture of Trickster and archangel, but this time it was _just_ the Trickster.

He should probably be thankful that the Trickster had stuck with the usual method of going after people who deserved it.

"Is there something else?" Steve asked, concerned.

Blinking, Gabriel let his hand drop, refocusing on Steve. "Yeah. The Trickster and Loki had a little chat at some point. Nothing much, but just throwing it out there."

"I suppose we should be thankful that they didn't decide it would be in their better interests to work together," Gadreel said.

"No chance of that happening," Gabriel immediately replied, shaking his head. "From the impression I got from that conversation, Loki thinks tricksters aren't worth his time, and I wasn't about to stick around to see what an angry pagan god looks like. They can get pretty nasty."

"Of course we don't want to piss you off," Clint said, sighing. "That would just be idiotic."

Gabriel's lips twitched. "Keep in mind he's _just_ a god at this point. There aren't going to be any soft feelings towards you."

"He's still you," Steve said. "We get that he's dangerous, but—"

"At this point, he _isn't_." Gabriel met all their eyes, completely serious. "He doesn't know you all. He doesn't even know me beyond that vague sense we all had that something was seriously fishy and we were at one point stuck together. If you piss him off, it's not going to be pretty. But"—he shrugged, flashing a grin—"I wouldn't worry too much about that part since I'll be there."

"He doesn't like angels," James pointed out. "Like, at all. Gadreel had to leave because he wouldn't talk to us."

"Who said he'd know I was there?" Gabriel tilted his head, smirking. "In the grand scheme of things, angels trump pagans, and he can't see through my illusions."

"He said angels don't like pagans, either," Natasha remembered aloud. "Is that every angel, or just a bad run-in with someone you knew?"

"It's kind of the principle of the thing." Gabriel shrugged. "Beings calling themselves 'gods' – well, Michael took offense to that, and so did everyone else."

"The first time I met you, you said there was a difference between God and gods," Steve recalled.

"Small 'g,' yeah," Gabriel agreed, remembering the same conversation. "But it was still pretty damn presumptuous of them. At least, so Michael thought. And since the Commander got the idea that they were lesser, the rest of my siblings fell in line."

"I feel as though we have gotten a bit off-topic," Loki noted. "Weren't we wondering how to find my counterpart – and your last part?"

"Make no mistake, we have questions," Natasha said, "but Loki's right. Let's focus on putting you back together before we get into it."

Gabriel wasn't ashamed of his past. Sure, there were things he wasn't proud of, but that was part of the gig of living. That didn't mean he wanted to be held under a microscope and questioned about what he had done before. He'd had his reasons and motivations, but how did one explain that to _humans_?

He was partly human now, but even then he didn't see eye-to-eye with his friends. They just didn't ( _couldn't_ ) see the bigger picture.

So how was he going to deal with this? It was the worst possible way for them to have found out about his past, and they still had one more part of him to see.

Keeping his tone carefully neutral, Gabriel said, "I'll take a look around with Gadreel, see what we can find."

"And we'll sit here doing nothing?" Clint didn't sound pleased.

"No." Gabriel met his gaze, raising an eyebrow. "You'll sit here waiting for us to find him and prepare. Dealing with a pagan is a bit different than a trickster."

It was best that he and Gadreel not be in the tower if they wanted any chance of taking Loki off his guard. Approaching him on his turf wouldn't go well, and if they were out and about, there was a better likelihood of Loki coming here.

After the conversation Loki had with the Trickster, Gabriel thought it _very_ likely that his team would be getting a visit.

* * *

"This is ridiculous." Clint was sitting slumped over the back of the sofa. "How are we supposed to 'prepare' for Loki? We barely know what we're going up against. And Tony and Gadreel just skipped off to go do whatever?"

Natasha rolled her eyes, but Clint wasn't looking at her so it didn't have much of an effect. "We know _some_ things about Loki," she reminded him.

"Yeah, _some._ " Clint snorted. "I don't like lying around waiting for someone else to do something."

"No one's saying this is fun." Steve entered the conversation. "I'm gonna trust that Gabriel knows what he's doing."

"He's a biased source."

"So are you." Natasha smacked Clint's shoulder. "You're still insistently against the Trickster." Not that she blamed him considering what they'd been through, but you didn't get far in this life if you allowed your biases to cloud your thinking.

Then again, those biases had been the reason Clint had spared her after all.

"I had a bad time, sue me," Clint retorted. "Why are all of _you_ so cool with it? You don't seem mad at all."

"How do you ask someone like Tony why a part of him trapped us in a maze of puzzles and our worst fears?" Peggy asked rhetorically.

"To his face and with witnesses so he can't duck out of answering."

"Are you sure you _want_ to know the answer?" Loki asked, looking out the window. He was standing apart from them all, leaning against the glass with his shoulder.

"Don't you?" Clint fired back. "Even you have to admit that what the Trickster pulled in there totally wasn't cool."

"Gabriel has lived for an immeasurable amount of years," Loki answered, head turning towards Clint. "Would you really want to know everything he has experienced? His motivations for becoming who he is? Perhaps this is something that you should just leave alone, lest the answer not be what you want."

"I already know I'm not going to like the answer."

Sighing, Loki turned back to the window. "I should have known the answer would be as ridiculous as that. At the very least, I would advise you not to make things worse for yourself."

"I may not have known him as long as some of you, but he's not going to hurt us," James protested. "Even if we ask him something he might be uncomfortable answering."

"Let me put it this way," Loki said, his head turning to James. "You know me as I am now, but I assure you that you would not have liked me ten years ago. Or even five. Ask if you will, but be aware that he is _not_ human."

"You know," a familiar voice said, "I think it might be a testament to your collective intelligence on how you keep having to be reminded of that. A testament to what, I'm not quite sure."

Natasha twitched violently, unpleasantly surprised to find the other Loki standing behind the bar along the righthand wall. He seemed rather amused at everyone else's reactions, expression identical to that of the Trickster.

Clint was the first to react, his posture stiff. "What are you doing _here_? There's nothing Norse-like here!"

"Excuse me," Loki said, affronted.

The other Loki rolled his eyes. "As if that's the only thing I'm interested in. I'm quite aware that Asgard is several worlds away, and the remnants of the Norse followers on this Earth are pathetic. You, however irritating you may be, remain the most interesting force in this world."

"I would've thought the mutants would be more interesting," Steve said, his posture deceptively relaxed. "They've got more going for them."

"Yes, but there's the chance they'd notice." The other Loki's eyes gleamed, the same amber as the Trickster's. "You, on the other hand…well, without the rest of me, unlikely. And you didn't, until I chose to let you."

"How long were you standing there?" Peggy sounded wary, her eyes slightly narrowed.

"Long enough," the other Loki said cryptically, the corner of his lips twitching upwards in what could have been a smile. "Enough to know that you seem to be having doubts about associating with an archangel."

"It's not doubts about associating with him," Natasha replied coolly.

"Really? Because you'd have been wise to have them. Archangels aren't the kindest of creatures."

"What, and you've met them?" Clint scoffed.

"I don't need to." The other Loki lifted one shoulder in a small shrug, eyes dropping to the bar and the various bottles assorted there. "Word of mouth gets by fast, particularly when the gods like to gossip." His smile was flat. "Michael certainly took offense to some particularly minor issues, but then it was the fault of the gods in question for thinking they ever had a chance."

He poured himself a glass of something Natasha couldn't make out the label of, taking a seat on one of the barstools and looking for all the world like a guest in the tower, perfectly relaxed and seemingly not at all put off by the group of wary and tense superheroes no more than ten feet away.

"You've been rather quiet," he said conversationally, gaze moving to Loki. "Considering how eager you were to talk last time."

"Last time I did not know of your determination to ignore the truth," Loki said, moving forward and away from the windows.

"Your truth," the other Loki said, tilting the glass towards Loki. "Not mine."

"There is no difference. Your truth is simply what you insist to be true."

"So you say." Loki's counterpart was watching him, a smile playing at his mouth. It wasn't a friendly expression. "I'm still wondering about what you _didn't_ say last time. Frost giants, was it? The Trickster had much to say on that topic."

Loki's posture was stiff, and Natasha thought she saw green flicker around his fingers. "That," he said quietly, "is no more your business than it was last we spoke."

"Oh, has that ever stopped either of us?" The other Loki took a sip from his glass. "We may be from places so far apart I can't begin to try and return, but we're more similar than you think. Or"—that smile, _again_ —"more than your friends think, at least."

"I'm aware," Loki said mildly. "Though your method of drawing power from people is, I admit, rather foreign."

"You're an alien, not a god. I don't expect you to understand."

"I'm a god as much as you are." Loki's tone was edged with something like pride. "Try me."

The other Loki considered Loki, his expression mostly unreadable. Natasha could find only traces of emotion – thoughtfulness, perhaps. "Could you imagine depending on humans for power?" the other Loki asked, now sounding amused. "Could you imagine knowing that as soon as they forget you, you'll be gone? No, you can't understand. You don't depend on anyone for life."

"Neither do you," Clint said, before Natasha could stop him from doing anything stupid.

The other Loki's eyes were flat as his attention moved to Clint. "More of this 'you're really an angel' business?" he asked, sounding bored.

"I know you don't like angels," Natasha said, "but you have to admit that there are some parts of your memories that don't match up with what they should. Do you have any way to explain that which doesn't involve angels?"

The other Loki raised his eyebrows, something green flickering over his body before it disappeared. "Magic, perhaps? I know you humans love your science nowadays, but not everything has a perfectly _rational_ explanation."

"Trust me," Steve said evenly, "we know that all too well."

"If you hadn't noticed, you're standing in a room with several so-called scientific impossibilities," Peggy said, arms folded across her chest. "And since you brought it up, what kind of magic would have brought you here if you're unable to return? You can't like it here considering how much you've complained about a lack of a power base."

"Oh, I know all too well what magic brought me here," the blond Loki said venomously. "You can thank _Gabriel_ for that. Unfortunately, _I'm_ not quite at the power level required to cross universes…even if I were as strong here as I was there, else I would be long out of your hair and none of us would be having this conversation."

"No, you'd be having it over there," Steve said. "Since he'd just follow you."

"Like a stalker," Clint said. "Or is it stalking if the person you're following is another facet of you?"

Natasha resisted the urge to roll her eyes. However reasonable this Loki seemed, Tony had already warned them against angering him, and pointing out that Tony _would_ follow him could tip him over the edge. "I think that's a question for Tony's lawyers. He pays them enough to deal with that."

"Very amusing," the other Loki said, not sounding amused in the slightest. "Am I really worth that much trouble to an archangel? I'm sure he's got other things to worry about – like the rest of this universe. It's not like there are any other angels to share the load with, after all." He took a pointed sip of his drink. "Unless, of course, there's something you'd like to tell me."

"You met Gadreel," Natasha pointed out.

"So, that's – what – two angels for this big old universe? That's a demanding job, even if one is a member of the big four."

Natasha had never actually considered it, really. Tony had mentioned more than once that he wouldn't let this universe be destroyed, but beyond dealing with the Leviathan and Thanos, he hadn't actually left Earth itself.

How much work was involved in taking care of an entire universe?

"You've never considered that, have you?" the other Loki said knowingly, amber eyes on Natasha. "Never considered the facets of your friend that he didn't regularly show you." He laughed to himself. "That explains why you weren't expecting any of us."

"He's mentioned you before," Steve said.

"Briefly," Clint supplied. "As an aside."

And they had never pressed for more, not that it had been any of their business to begin with.

Natasha, for one, would have happily dealt with anyone who pried into her past without asking permission. There were some things that shouldn't be known.

That didn't mean she wasn't curious about Loki and the others. It just meant that, however reluctantly, she'd side with Tony if he didn't want to explain it all to them. There were some points she was legitimately concerned about – such as the way this Loki and the Trickster had both expressed an alarming distaste towards angels – but they could be addressed later.

It wasn't as if they were all without neuroses.

"And him mentioning me means you're prepared to deal with me?" Amusement was clear in the other Loki's voice. "As if you know anything about me."

"We know some things." Natasha realized what Clint was about to say the second before he said it. "Like Baldur—"

The other Loki moved so quickly that Natasha didn't even see him do it, but in the next second he had one hand on Clint's throat, pressing him back against the sofa and cutting him off mid-sentence.

"Don't you dare speak of what you know _nothing_ of," the other Loki hissed, an abrupt departure from his earlier mood.

Loki hadn't really moved from his position, but Natasha could tell that he was ready to counteract whatever his counterpart did. "Then tell us," he said, the words slightly strained.

The other Loki's eyes flickered to him, narrowing briefly. "So you can pass judgment on me? I don't think so."

"You'd rather we judge you for being an ass?" James asked, his right hand curled into a fist at his side. "We know something happened, but the myths don't tell us your side."

"Shut _up_ ," the other Loki snapped, hand tightening on Clint's throat. Clint made a strangled, pained noise, one hand grasping at the god's wrist.

Natasha bid James to be quiet. Trying to refocus this Loki's anger wasn't going to do any good, not with a prime target already literally within his grasp.

As James wasn't looking at her and couldn't read minds, he continued baiting the other. "Obviously that's a sore spot. Maybe you should ask your Trickster buddy about that, since he's the one who told us in the first place."

"The Trickster is a _fool,_ " the other Loki retorted, turning to look at James. "He knows as much as you do. All he desires is to stir up bad feeling, to try and distract you. And look how well it worked for him. Gone and mixed back into the whole of us."

"So you admit it?" Loki took a cautious step forward "That you are part of Gabriel."

The other Loki snapped something in a language Natasha didn't recognize, but judging from Loki's face it was either surprising or incredibly rude.

"If there is one thing I know about us," Loki said after a moment, his face smoothing out, "it is that we are not idiots. If the answer is staring at us right in the face, there is no use in denying its existence simply because of prior prejudices. It makes you a 'bigoted dick' as James put it."

"Do you think I care?" The other Loki hadn't let go of Clint. "Do you think I give a damn what you think of my opinions? I have gone a very long time without anyone telling me what to do, and I don't intend to change because of _you._ "

Natasha had a brief second to wonder where the _hell_ Tony and Gadreel were before something pulled the other Loki back by the shirt, flinging him across the room. Clint pulled in air in a loud gasp, chest heaving.

"You," Tony's voice said very calmly, "are _very_ lucky that I can't actually hurt you right now." He appeared as if from nothing right before Loki.

"As if you would," the other Loki spat, getting back to his feet. "Did you tire of waiting for me to finish entertaining myself with your so-called friends? I would have thought you would watch over them more closely."

"First, they are my friends. Second, who says I wasn't?" Something crackled in the air around Tony, the lights flickering briefly. "Now, this can go one of two ways, and I'm hoping you're a bit more reasonable than the Trickster was."

"And what did you have to do to rejoin with him?" the other Loki asked, a sneer pulling at his lips. "Grab him in the middle of one of his entertainments? Tell me, how easily did that go?"

Tony shrugged. "Easy enough, if you got past the curses he was throwing around. That doesn't mean I like dragging around an unwilling passenger."

"And you think I'll come willingly?" The other Loki laughed. "No. I'll remain my own, thank you. I don't see the promise or the lure of being a part of _you_ again, and I swear that I won't go easily. And I _always_ keep my promises." An ominous grin curved his mouth. "Odin knows that much."

"And here I thought you'd be reasonable." Tony sounded just a bit disappointed. "Well…here's one thing you can take with you…I also keep my promises." Judging from the other Loki's face, Natasha thought that Tony had a pretty terrifying expression right now. "And I think I'll deal with the results just fine. Come on, brother."

The other Loki's eyes widened briefly before he spun on his heels, his hands coming up to grasp hold of Gadreel's, who had just appeared behind him. Green energy crackled around his hands where they were clenched around Gadreel's wrists. "A surprise attack? That's not very angelic of you."

"Who says I'm all angel?" Tony turned his head, facing them for the first time since he'd appeared and giving them a wink. "You should know better than that by now." His hand came down onto Loki's shoulder. "Let's go."

With an audible crack of energy and a violent displacement of air, the three vanished, leaving scorch marks on the floor and what smelled like ozone.

Still breathing heavily, Clint rubbed at his throat, meeting Natasha's eyes with no small amount of relief. "What the _fuck_." His voice was hoarse.

Natasha commiserated, but she was a bit more concerned about the bruises she could see. "You're all right?"

"I'm still breathing." Clint shot the spot where they had been standing a perturbed look. "But I repeat, what the _fuck_."

Exhaling softly, Loki leaned back against the window, hands relaxing. "He did warn you, I recall."

"So we're blaming me now?"

"So that's an angry god," Peggy murmured.

"Bruce'll be interested to know he also glows green," Steve said, rubbing his face.

"That's really what you're going to take out of this, Steve?" Natasha shot him a look, leaning back against the sofa. "I'm more interested in what he said about Odin."

"I'm trying _not_ to think," Steve said, "because then I'd have to think about what's going on in that workshop."

"That machine needs to die," Clint proclaimed. "Otherwise we're going to deal with this thing again, this time with someone much larger and greener."

"I will smash that thing myself before that happens," James said. "We don't need a Hulk running around."

Something rumbled in the depths of the tower, the floor vibrating slightly under their feet. Natasha glanced down instinctively before reminding herself that she couldn't see anything through several floors.

"I suppose that's him not going easily," Peggy remarked, sinking into the cushions besides Steve.

If this had been several years ago, Natasha would have been a little bit more concerned about being in a tower that was shaking like that. But after everything she'd been through, she just couldn't be bothered. Besides, she had no doubt that if worst came to worst, Loki would take them away without a fuss.

"I feel like we should be more concerned about what's happening," Clint said, voicing Natasha's thoughts.

"For your information, I'm just going with the flow," James said. "But this isn't normal."

"Our lives aren't normal," Steve said to the ceiling. "Welcome to the club, Bucky."

* * *

Loki managed to tear himself away from the two angels in the moment of transport, so that they ended up with a table in-between them and the god.

"You think you're so clever," he snapped, green sparks flickering around his hands. "As if _that_ was anything to be proud of."

"It got you down here," Gabriel retorted. They were still several floors away from where they needed to be – Loki had managed to wrangle his way out of Gabriel's grasp. He hadn't given the god enough credit.

Or maybe it had just been the shock of them taking off, with Loki's magic fighting against his Grace.

"Not quite far enough." Loki knew he still had an opening, which made him more confident. He moved further behind the table, putting a barrier in between him and Gabriel. The three were frozen in a standoff, even with Gadreel and Gabriel working together. They couldn't risk harming Loki.

"Will you really do this now?" Gadreel asked. "Once all is said and done the potential backlash will affect you as much as Gabriel."

"Then let it," Loki snapped. "I've no love for angels, and if this is truly to be inevitable as you _claim_ , then let the consequences be the worst ones."

Fuck it all, he'd have to deal with this either way. A minor temper tantrum from a pagan god wasn't even the worst thing he had to deal with in merging back together.

"If you think that'll get me to change my mind, you've got another thing coming," Gabriel told him flatly. "You're not even the worst thing I've faced, which you'd know if you were being reasonable."

"As if your kind is so reasonable?" Loki sneered. "You lot preach forgiveness and acceptance, but you just like being enormous hypocrites, don't you?"

"As a general lot, both of our species are dicks," Gabriel said. "Individually is a different question, but even then I have to say that you're an ass."

"And yet you claim I'm you."

"No one ever said I thought I was perfect."

Loki laughed mockingly. "Do you remember nothing from when we spoke, Trickster to god? I told you _exactly_ what I thought of this mess. And still you try?"

Gabriel snorted. "If I gave up anytime something wasn't easy or people didn't want to do something, the world would have ended several times over. I'm not doing this because it's easy, but because I know full well that being anything less than you're _supposed_ to be isn't good."

"Who _cares_ if it's 'good' or 'right'?" Loki scoffed. "We can survive individually. There's no one forcing you to do this but yourself and your misguided idea that you'll be better off if you finish your self-imposed mission."

His chest tightened at the memory of tearing out his soul, at the self-inflicted violation he had done to finish the Leviathan. Loki might not be entirely aware of it, but Gabriel knew that this wasn't _right_. He still wasn't whole, could _feel_ that he wasn't whole, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling.

Maybe they could survive individually, but Gabriel wasn't willing to test that assumption in the long run.

Loki took advantage of his moment of thought to make a break for it, but Gadreel was still standing in his way. "I am not letting you out of this tower," his brother warned, his hand tight around Loki's wrist.

"Let's see how well that works out," Loki hissed, but there was an undertone of panic in his expression as he attempted to get out of Gadreel's hold.

Exhaling slowly, Gabriel stretched his awareness out to the space around the tower, tweaking it so that if Loki did try to escape, he'd just cycle back to his original position. "You can try, but you won't get anywhere."

Eyes flashing to him, Loki went rigid as he apparently tested Gabriel's statement.

"That's cheating." Loki's deceptively calm joke couldn't disguise the fact that he knew he was trapped and was panicking.

"Who said I played fair?" Gabriel stepped forward, keeping Loki pinned in place with his Grace. "After all, the Trickster didn't."

"You're not just the Trickster." Loki's eyes were fixed on Gabriel.

"No, but he is me, and I was the one who chose to become him." Gabriel's hand came down to Loki's shoulder, gripping him tightly. "Can't choose to become something you don't have the capability of being."

Loki flung his magic out in a burst that made the tower rattle, a desperate last-ditch attempt to wriggle out of the hold of the two beings he was stuck in between.

"You're only partly an angel," he spat. "I may not remember everything but I have an idea of what you're _forcing_ on me. An angel who hated his family enough to abandon them, to make himself into what they despised."

Gabriel's fingers tightened, and he pulled in a sharp breath. "I never hated them. I still don't." It wasn't because of that that he'd left.

"Oh, you had _someone_ you hated, for dislike that strong to bleed over." Loki leaned forward, edging in on Gabriel's personal space and probably disregarding every bit of self-preservation he had. "Tell me…was it you?"

Ignoring Gadreel's palpable shock and the way his eyes flickered to him, Gabriel closed the distance between them, squashing Loki's futile attempt at casting one last spell. "I think that this conversation is over."

"You're avoiding answering me." Loki grinned sharply. " _Oh_ …I was _right_ —"

Gabriel's wings snapped out and he darted down, taking Loki and Gadreel with him, not wanting to wait for Gadreel to follow. They slammed onto the floor in the lab, knocking the wind out of Loki.

A rustle of wings signaled Gadreel rearranging his after Gabriel had pulled him along so abruptly. "A little warning next time, brother?" Gadreel said, not sounding like he had much hope that Gabriel would listen.

"He was getting on my nerves." Gabriel's hand was already pressing against Loki's forehead, Grace pushing against magic. It would be more difficult to reverse a shapeshift – the Trickster dealt with illusions, so his false appearance had been easy to remove, but Loki really _did_ look like this. He simply changed his body.

Still, Gabriel was an archangel, and Loki was running low on power.

Loki was breathing heavily as the change filtered away, and it was odd to have a version of himself glaring so severely at him. Gabriel could feel himself unconsciously mimicking the expression, and quickly stopped.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's rude to mess with other people's appearances?" Loki snapped, only a slight tremble running through his body any sign of how terrified he was.

"Anyone tell you it's rude to strangle people's friends?"

"He's fine," Loki bit out.

"Humans do need to breathe." Gabriel glanced at Gadreel pointedly, telling him nonverbally to get out before he activated the machine. The last thing he needed was to accidentally pull Gadreel in as well.

"Is it wise to send your brother away?" Loki's throat rippled as he swallowed.

"I don't know. Are you going to do anything that might piss me off?"

"You won't harm me."

"And you won't hurt me," Gabriel retorted. "Looks like it's a draw."

The moment the doors shut behind Gadreel, Gabriel turned his attention partly to the machine, putting Grace in to kickstart the process. The machine hummed quietly, glowing as his energy fueled its batteries.

"You think this will solve everything?" The question was quiet, but even that couldn't disguise the hate seething at the edges. "That you'll just remember and things will work out? That everything will be as it was before all this?"

Gabriel looked into Loki's eyes, remembering the conversation his friends had while he had been waiting for Loki's arrival. He remembered what he had done as just the Trickster and how betrayed Clint still was, the only one willing to verbalize what everyone else was thinking.

"No," Gabriel said, subdued. He could feel the machine tugging at him, wanting to pull the two of them back together. "I know it won't be."

"Then why bother? Let me go. Give yourself an excuse not to answer." Loki grabbed at Gabriel's arm, fingers digging in. "I _know_ you don't want to."

"Because." Gabriel pulled the two of them directly into the machine's path. "I'm done running."

The moment the machine's ray hit them, Gabriel lost any physical orientation he had.

Grace struggled to reconcile with pagan magic, the lines between Gabriel and Loki blurring. Not only that, but the two sets of memories didn't immediately fit together, the disagreeing power affecting everything else and making it that much more difficult to fit himself back together.

He was distantly aware of his knees having hit the floor some seconds ago, but it was all inconsequential compared to the internal battle that was roiling inside him. He was trying to quell the anger inside his pagan magic, but it wasn't going very smoothly.

An outside source of energy surrounded him, someone speaking to him in words that he _should_ understand but weren't making sense. He grasped hold of the other, needing something solid to anchor himself to.

The other voice was still speaking, but it wasn't making any more sense than it had a minute ago.

"I don't—" Gabriel/Loki forced out the words, recognizing them as Norse and registering distant surprise in the other.

"You're fine, brother," the voice said, this time in the same language. "Calm yourself."

"Easier said than done," Gabriel (or was he Loki?) managed to get out. "I can't—"

"You can. You've done it before. You _can_ , Gabriel." Warmth stroked through Gabriel, and he forced himself to relax, clenching his eyes shut as he stopped forcing his Grace into the pagan magic and let it settle. The two warring powers were tangled and tense but, as he relaxed, so did they. Slowly, the magic calmed, integrating itself back into his Grace, attracted by the Trickster power that was more obvious now that he wasn't pushing his Grace forward so strongly.

It went against every instinct he had now to relax when something was threatening his very core, but if he _didn't_ do it…

Pressing his head back against whatever he was leaning against, Gabriel pulled in a deep breath, opening his eyes. For a few brief seconds, he saw absolutely everything, the bright light of his brother's Grace nearest to him. Focusing on it and the warmth Gadreel was still pressing into him, Gabriel blinked, bringing his sight back to relatively human levels, Gadreel's human face swimming into view.

"Gabriel?" Gadreel's voice was calm, but his Grace fluttered nervously.

"I'm—" Gabriel inhaled, bringing his hands up to touch Gadreel's where they were holding onto his shoulders. "I'm fine," he said in English. "I've got it."

His grip relaxing, Gadreel let out a slow breath, nodding. "Thankfully we won't have to do that again."

Snorting, Gabriel let his head fall back against the wall. Somehow he'd moved from the middle of the room to the side, but he wasn't complaining about the support. He felt achy all over, four different sets of memories colored by different perspectives just waiting to be looked at more closely. And he was just exhausted. "Tell me about it," was all he said, grinning faintly.

Gadreel's brow crinkled, something like worry flickering over his face. Then, he said quietly, "We should let the others know."

Gabriel could tell that his brother wanted to ask about Loki's earlier words, about whether it was really true. But he said nothing, and for that Gabriel was thankful, not wanting to have such a draining conversation at this time when all he wanted was to recover. "Probably," he agreed. "I doubt they were too worried, though."

The one good thing about faking it until you made it and everyone else thinking that archangels (or angels in general) were practically invulnerable was that they tended to think things like this were a walk in the park. And it wasn't like Gabriel was going to dissuade them from that notion.

"Regardless," Gadreel said, helping Gabriel to his feet, "we should go and inform them of the happy news."

It was only the small twitch of his lips that told Gabriel that Gadreel had just cracked a joke.

* * *

It was a few more minutes of them sitting and wondering if they should possibly go down to check and see if things had worked out before Tony and Gadreel were standing before them, Tony looking visibly weary but smiling.

"So," Tony started, "I feel like this should be a momentous occasion, as it's not every day someone can say that they literally pulled themselves together." His eyes fell on Clint. "Sorry about your throat. I'd – uh – do something, but I don't think that'd be a very good idea." He winced.

Gadreel stepped closer until he could inspect Clint's throat. Two fingers on the forehead later and the bruises were gone.

"Thanks." The hoarseness was gone from his voice as well. Clint poked his throat experimentally, then glanced at Tony. "Remind me not to make you that angry again."

"You're good in the future, but I appreciate the sentiment." Tony glanced at the rest of them. "If we're all good here, I'll go and make sure that machine is taken care of. That thing is a menace."

He vanished before any of them had a chance to reply, leaving Natasha staring at the space where he'd been.

"I hope he means he's going to destroy it," James said.

"Most likely," Gadreel agreed. "It would be unfortunate if anyone else were to get caught in it."

"And for the record, Gabriel," Clint said loudly, staring down at the floor, "this doesn't mean you're off the hook!"

Gadreel studied him for a few seconds. Then, in a quiet voice, he said, "He knows."

The other Loki had accused Tony of not watching his friends closely, but Tony had refuted that. And the way Gadreel was looking at Clint now…

Natasha muttered a quiet curse under her breath.

It was all well and good to plan a sneak attack, but it didn't really help if everyone else had no clue what the plan was.

Judging from the look on Steve's face, he had figured out the same thing.

"You were waiting for him to show up here, weren't you?" Natasha asked.

Gadreel didn't answer, but the way he wouldn't meet their eyes and the guilty slump to his shoulders said it all.

"What the hell!" Clint looked scandalized. "You're telling me we were _bait_?"

"You were never in any danger," Gadreel immediately reassured him.

"He was _choking me_!"

"You are still alive." Gadreel seemed to realize this was the wrong thing to say when Clint puffed up angrily. "We needed him distracted enough that he wouldn't strike back. If we had let you know ahead of time what the plan was, he would have suspected something from your behavior. It had to be genuine."

"We can act," James said.

"Maybe you can, but I know from painful experience this one can't," Peggy said wryly, tousling Steve's hair. "At least not without practice. Selling bonds doesn't count," she told him before he could protest.

"You're not mad about this?" Clint sounded disbelieving.

"I've made hard calls before," Peggy said evenly. "They're not fun, but they are necessary."

"I agree," Loki said, breaking his silence and standing again. Natasha didn't recall seeing him sit down. "It was necessary. If none of you mind, I'm going to try and ensure Gabriel doesn't spend the rest of the week holed up in his lab."

The silence he left behind in his wake was fraught with tension, most eyes on a silent Gadreel.

Looking away from the other angel, Natasha's eyes landed on a silent Steve. One thing was for sure: Things were not going to be the same after this.

* * *

 **Read and review, please!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Gabriel needs to have some serious talks with the rest of the team, but at least he's all back together now**

* * *

Gabriel was working on some project when Loki arrived, and while he must have noticed the latter's presence he did not turn around or immediately acknowledge it.

"I assume you remember Baldur now," Loki said quietly, seeing no point in trying to disguise his motive.

Gabriel stiffened, hands falling away from the hologram in front of him. "Yes," he admitted after a moment, his back still to Loki.

"Your reaction was rather violent when Clinton mentioned him." Loki kept his voice neutral. "But you doubtlessly already knew that, as you were present during the conversation."

"Yeah, well…it's not something I enjoy thinking about." Or talking about, was the implied addendum, but Gabriel seemed remarkably calm about it now.

Loki closed the distance between them until he stood just off to the side, leaving the choice up to Gabriel whether he wanted to turn and face him. "Would you tell me?" The question was quiet.

Gabriel discarded the holograph he had been working on, letting his hands drop. He looked down at them. "The gods weren't really open-minded," he said eventually, subdued. "Now and then there'd be someone that popped up, scared the shit out of them because they weren't _normal_ …well, it wasn't like I was normal either, so I kept an eye on them, made sure they got around okay." He glanced back at Loki, smiling wryly. "They got the idea they were my kids. Which, okay, was pretty amusing to me back then, but I could work with it."

Loki was startled by the idea that Gabriel had had other children – whether biologically or not – and then, abruptly, realized that whatever family he had had before, in Heaven or as Loki, was unreachable across universes. He was unsure what to think of that.

Gabriel turned his head away. "It was all right for a bit. Then…I don't know, some prophet said one of them would bring about the end times. Or part of them, at least. And Odin…" He chuckled darkly. "Well. Couldn't have that."

"It is said that Odin was your brother," Loki said carefully. However odd the idea was, the implications Gabriel's story had…

Gabriel breathed out slowly, head bent so he was staring at the table. Loki could see that his hands were curled into fists. "Yeah," he said softly. "He was."

Gingerly, Loki reached out to lay a hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "He did something to them." It was not a question.

Gabriel's head remained bent.

"I'm sorry."

"Not like you could have done anything about it." Gabriel exhaled, rolling his shoulders once and subtly shaking Loki's hand off. "Anyway…I wasn't happy. They were just… _kids_. Powerful ones, but who wasn't back then?" His mouth twisted, eyes fixed on something outside of the room they were standing in. "So I paid him back." The words were dark. "An eye for an eye."

Was Odin also missing an eye in Gabriel's universe? "Did you…?"

"I didn't actually take his eye, if that's what you're asking." Gabriel's snort of laughter was short. "No, I had something else in mind. He messed with _my_ kids, so I thought I'd pay him back." He shifted, pressing his hip against the table next to him. "It worked, and – best of all – no one suspected me." His smile was dark. "Least not until it was too late. I was already gone by then."

" _No one_ suspected you?" Loki found that somewhat difficult to believe.

Gabriel shrugged. "It's not like they could prove anything. Covering my tracks was easy, especially since I wasn't the one to actually do it."

"You weren't?" Loki could failed to keep the surprise out of his voice. "I would not have thought anyone else would be willing to do something like…that."

"He didn't know what he was doing," Gabriel said sharply, and then exhaled slowly.

"Really." Loki did not want to try and prod Gabriel into revealing more faster than he was willing, but he could not deny his curiosity.

"Hoðr…" Gabriel hesitated, turning away again. "He was Baldur's brother. Blind." He snorted. "I should probably explain…it was more drawn out than I'm making it sound. I gave him nightmares. Baldur. He panicked so badly that Frigg went around making sure that nothing in the world could hurt him. Baldur, the best and brightest of the gods, well, who wouldn't want to protect him."

Loki heard the sourness in Gabriel's voice, but didn't comment on it. "Frigg?" he questioned. "Not Frigga?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Different name, I guess. More than just the stories changed between universes."

That did make sense, even if it sounded a little odd to Loki's ears. "And this…Hoðr?"

"Well, after Frigg did that…obviously, Asgard partied. Big celebration, people throwing everything they could at Baldur. Nothing left so much as a scratch." Gabriel paused, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Except Frigg didn't get everything."

Loki thought he could tell where this was going, and it was not a pleasant direction. "Hoðr was blind, so he would not know that it was Baldur he would be harming," he guessed.

"No, he knew. He just didn't know the arrow would work." Gabriel didn't meet Loki's eyes. "And then by Asgard's laws…"

Loki's stomach dropped. "He was put to death," he finished. "Was he not?" So his counterpart had forced Odin to kill his own son, upholding the laws of his realm.

Gabriel nodded, finally meeting his eyes. "I don't regret it," he said quietly, "but I wish it hadn't been Baldur."

"You wanted Odin to understand what he had done."

"I did." Gabriel's smile was wry. "Even if he never knew for sure that it was me, he understood the pain. Besides, I think me up and leaving after that was probably a big sign. Probably also the reason they decided to chain a fictional version of me up to be tortured until Ragnarok."

That sounded terribly unpleasant. Loki said as much.

"It does, doesn't it?" Gabriel sounded amused. "I think it was a deterrent for anyone else who wanted to go against Odin. They couldn't find me anywhere, so they made something up." He smiled wryly. "Made them look better, too. I'm sure more than a few people suspected that I was involved, but they had to hold someone responsible. No one would have believed that Hoðr did it on his own."

"If two gods were dead, I don't doubt that Odin had to be seen doing something." Privately, Loki wondered exactly _what_ Odin had done to Gabriel's children in that universe to warrant such a response.

"Baldur didn't actually stay dead." Gabriel leaned against the table, and Loki swore he looked vaguely disappointed. "They managed to get him back. Quite a feat, considering he'd ended up in the underworld one of my kids ran." He smiled faintly. "She doesn't like letting anyone go."

"You are not referring to _Hel,_ are you?" Loki half-hoped that Gabriel was joking.

"She isn't the same," Gabriel said, eyes flickering down. "I know what Hel is like here, and it isn't the same. She wasn't what they thought she was."

"She rules the afterlife in that universe as well?"

"Yeah. Thing is, being a goddess of death…people either ignored her or weren't very pleasant." Gabriel looked as though he were looking at something invisible to Loki. "The rest of them weren't much better off."

"How many?" Loki asked quietly, after a moment of silence.

"Four," Gabriel answered, and then sighed. "I haven't seen any of them in ages. Not that I really could have, being stuck here. But when we went back…"

"You were rather occupied with other issues," Loki reminded him, guessing what Gabriel was thinking – that he had missed the chance to reunite. "It was unavoidable."

"Nah, it wasn't that. I wouldn't have even if there hadn't been so many problems to deal with." Gabriel tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling. "Before I ended up here, I sorta got my cover blown. As Loki. Kali figured it out and decided to announce it to everyone there."

"Everyone where?" Loki realized he must have asked a bad question when Gabriel tensed and quickly changed tracks. "Other gods, you mean?"

"Yeah. I don't doubt everyone knows by now." Gabriel looked resigned. "And, like I said…gods don't like angels. If they thought Hel or any of them had so much as talked to me…" His mouth twisted. "It wouldn't be pleasant."

"You seemed quite averse to angels, as both Loki and the Trickster," Loki affirmed, seeing Gabriel shift at the mention of it. "We wondered about that."

"Why part of me hated angels, you mean?" Gabriel's reply was accompanied by a sardonic smile. "I had my reasons."

"Other than a lack of self-esteem?"

Gabriel snorted, but didn't deny it. "Loki…well, as him, I had to blend in. I know I denied being an angel when we talked…I had to keep that mindset. Make sure no one suspected. And I really _did_ want to avoid Heaven and angels and the like, 'cause Michael would have dragged my ass back upstairs if he had the faintest idea of where I was." He tapped at the table absentmindedly, looking lost in thought and somewhat morose. "You can't immerse yourself in a role for that long without losing yourself in it a bit."

"You adopted the ideas you pretended to have."

"Yeah, something like that."

"And what of the Trickster?"

"The Trickster was around when all that crap about the apocalypse was going down." An edge of bitterness entered Gabriel's voice. "I wasn't exactly a fan of watching my family fight. And he was after Loki, anyway, so…"

Gabriel trailed off, looking down again and letting his head hang. Loki had never seen him in a state like this – this expressive, at least. Gabriel might have had his moments, but when it came to darker emotions, Loki could recall only a few fleeting times when he'd seen Gabriel like this, and they were not times that he particularly wanted to recall.

Taking a breath, Gabriel straightened his posture, face blanking as he looked at Loki again. "Was that everything?"

No, Loki still had other questions, but he rather suspected that Gabriel's team would also want the answers.

"For now," he replied.

Gabriel's smile was resigned. "I guess that's all I can ask for."

* * *

He knew the others were waiting for him, wanting to ask him questions and make sure he was okay. He knew that, but…

He wasn't ready. He was still working on adjusting to the memories he had now from four different perspectives. The ones from his human and angel parts weren't so bad, but it was the Trickster and Loki… Even during the time he had been pretending to be a pagan and a trickster, he hadn't ever forgotten where he'd come from.

It had colored some of his interactions with his fellow gods and how he interacted with humans, so to have thoughts and feelings that were so different from how _he_ had been back then was jarring.

Sighing, Tony slumped back against the wall outside of the room he was about to go in. He took a moment to collect himself, making sure Pepper and Rhodey had really left the area to go talk to the team, and then he fortified himself with another breath before going in.

His kids saw him immediately, stopping whatever they were doing to look at him with no small amount of wariness. Jarvis was sitting on the couch with Sam by his side, and ne wasn't meeting Tony's eyes.

Tony swallowed down the small kernel of guilt that rose in him, managing a warm smile. "Hey, kiddos."

Dummy's eyes were dark. "Are you back together now?"

"It's been fixed," Tony answered, coming closer and sitting on the floor opposite them.

"No one told us _anything_ ," Butterfingers complained, frowning. Her hands tightened on the tablet in her lap. "But we heard you."

Tony's smile grew strained, and he nodded once. "I'm sorry. That won't happen again."

"You're okay now?" Sam asked, voice so quiet Tony almost missed it. Ne was looking at him now, eyes wide.

"Now I am," Tony said gently. It was only half a lie, but Sam didn't need to know. He had done enough to scare nem.

With remarkable speed, Sam pulled away from Jarvis and went to cling to Tony, moving into his lap. "I'm sorry for scaring you," ne mumbled, burying nir face into his neck.

Tony hugged nem. "It wasn't your fault. That was all me."

"I shouldn't have—"

"That was _not_ your fault," Tony insisted, cutting nem off. "I should have been a bit more careful."

"Don't go jumping into strange machines?" Dummy suggested, inching closer.

Tony glanced at him, grinning. "I didn't jump into it, Dummy. I was just the guy in the way."

"It isn't going to happen again?"

"I destroyed it," Tony said. Ordinarily he would have winced at destroying a machine like that, but there had been nothing but vindictive satisfaction involved in destroying that thing. "And Doom isn't able to build another."

" _Because he's a statue,_ " You noted.

"Yes, because he's a statue." That was one thing Tony didn't regret doing, as Doom had been a thorn in their side for too long. But he didn't really look forward to Reed asking him if he knew anything about it.

"You're not keeping anything else from us?" Butterfingers asked suspiciously.

"We kept asking what was going on," Dummy said, close enough now that he could link his arm through Tony's, leaning into his side. "But no one told us anything. We're not _that_ young."

"We're older than J," Butterfingers pointed out.

"Physically, perhaps," Jarvis said, an unidentifiable emotion in his eyes as he looked at Tony.

Tony stroked a hand down Sam's back. "They didn't want to worry you." He saw the protests forming before they even verbalized and quickly added, "I know that's not an excuse, and I'm sorry about that. But…" He looked down at Sam's dark hair. "It wasn't exactly pleasant."

"You didn't look happy," Sam said in a small voice. "And you…looked at me weirdly."

Slowly breathing in, Tony rubbed Sam's back. "You reminded me of someone I used to know. And I – Gabriel-me, I mean – didn't exactly remember you."

"But you _did_ ," Dummy protested.

"I remembered you from when I was human. Gabriel had a different set of memories." Tony could see Dummy thinking that over.

"I _guess_ that makes sense," Sam said, repeating nir words from before, peeking up at Tony with a small grin. "I'm glad you're back." Ne reached up to kiss Tony's cheek, giggling as he rubbed his face against nir.

"You and me both," Tony said, letting nem pull away. "Because that was not something I want to repeat."

"Being split into four wasn't fun?" Dummy asked, blinking innocently.

Tony took a moment to study him before deciding that Dummy was spending far too much time around Steve. "Do you want to try it?" he offered. "It's totally possible…" He reached out to him.

" _No_!" Dummy immediately wiggled away, shrieking with laughter.

Shrugging, Tony sat back, putting his weight on his hands behind him. "Your loss."

" _You just said it was awful,_ " You accused him, eyes narrowing. " _Why would we want to do it?_ "

"Please don't say aesthetic," Jarvis muttered, burying his head in his hands.

Sam glanced back at him, then turned back to Tony and said with a perfectly straight face, "For the aesthetic."

"It would make a great picture," Butterfingers agreed.

" _We have photoshop for that,_ " You pointed out.

"But that means we can't meet ourselves!"

"Trust me, it's not as cool as it sounds," Tony said, reaching out to tug at Butterfingers' braids. "It's just weird."

"You're not exactly normal," Butterfingers said bluntly, batting his hand away.

"Fine, point conceded." Tony tweaked her nose, getting a face in response. "What are you working on?"

"Well…" Butterfingers looked vaguely shifty, sliding the tablet over to You.

"Don't tell me – more college papers?"

"I'm helping You," Butterfingers said, shrugging. "It's fun."

"Computer coding's _easy_ ," Dummy said dismissively.

"It's not _just_ computer coding," Butterfingers said imperiously. "Which you'd know if you paid attention to it."

"Well, if they can't _do_ it—"

Slowly getting to his feet, Tony let them argue it out amongst themselves, winding his way through them until he could sit next to Jarvis on the sofa, stretching his legs out before him.

Jarvis didn't look at him, his eyes on his clasped hands.

When a few more minutes passed with nothing but the sounds of his three eldest fighting and Sam taking the tablet from You to do something on it, Tony took the first step. "You all right, J?"

Jarvis took a moment to respond, his voice soft when he did. "Of a given definition of the term, yes."

His son looked rather bleak and wouldn't meet his eyes. Tony didn't understand why, not until he realized that Jarvis was linked to every camera and room in the tower and would have seen the entire scene between Gabriel, Gadreel, and Loki.

Sighing, Gabriel closed his eyes. "How much did you see?"

"Everything up until you merged," Jarvis murmured.

"And you…" Gabriel didn't want to suggest that Jarvis had questions, but it was one possible reason for his silence.

"Were you tempted?"

This answer was easy at least. "No. I couldn't tell at that point, but being separated wasn't going to do us any good in the long run. Even if we all seemed separate, we were still one."

"Was there…" Jarvis glanced upwards at his siblings as if to make sure they were still distracted. "Was there any truth in what he said?"

Gabriel didn't answer immediately, eyes on his hands. He rubbed his fingers together, trying to think of an answer that wouldn't horrify Jarvis. "There was bleed over," he said eventually, glancing back at Jarvis. "Some of what he said was truthful, but not everything."

Jarvis looked at Gabriel for the first time since he had entered the room. "You won't tell me what?"

Managing a smile that he hoped didn't look as painful as it felt, Gabriel squeezed his shoulder. "Not here," he said. "And only if you're absolutely sure."

Jarvis didn't move, eyes still on Gabriel. "The others are looking for you." The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile. "I believe they have their own questions."

Gabriel turned away, gaze going to the souls he could see wandering around the tower. "I know. I'll get to them soon." He'd just…needed a little time.

Half turning towards Gabriel, Jarvis hesitated only minutely before he leaned in, closing the gap between them. "Regardless of what happens, I will support you, Father," he promised.

Chest clenching tightly, Gabriel pressed his lips to Jarvis's temple, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to squeeze him into a hug. He didn't have to voice his gratefulness for Jarvis's support; the other's soft smile was all the answer he needed.

* * *

Call Gabriel a coward, but he didn't immediately go to see the others. Instead, he decided to go off and contemplate what exactly they might talk to him about.

This ended up being a rather bad idea as he repeatedly came up with worst case scenarios until he finally decided to just fuck it all and wing it. He wasn't _ashamed_ of his past.

But he had never intended on them seeing all the sides of him like that; it almost made him feel naked.

Yet it had happened, and now he had to deal with it. Things weren't going to be the same after this, but he could do his best to smooth over any worries they had.

Bolstering his courage, Gabriel landed quietly on the balcony outside the penthouse, taking in the sight of the city at night for a few minutes. Then, when the feeling of anticipation from inside could no longer be ignored, he squared his shoulders and went inside.

"Have a good day?" Gabriel asked nonchalantly, sliding the door closed behind him. "It was rather"—he quickly checked the weather—"warm."

"Wouldn't know," Clint said from his perch on a barstool, swilling around a drink. "I was inside."

"We all were," Natasha said, putting an umbrella in her finished drink and raising an eyebrow at Gabriel.

"Ah." He was uncomfortably aware of everyone's attention on him. He let it fester for another minute before just jumping in. "Do you have something to say or is there something on my face?"

"It's clean," Gadreel assured him. A second later he made a face. "I apologize. That was a figure of speech, was it not?"

"You're getting better," Rhodey told him, patting his shoulder. He and Pepper had joined the team up there at some point, which Gabriel was partly glad for. Partly, because he wouldn't have to repeat the explanation – but he was still going to have to explain it to them.

They'd handled the news of him being an archangel relatively well, but how would they take this once he explained?

No one else said anything more, and Gabriel was almost tempted to just leave after Jarvis gave him a sympathetic look.

Then Clint put his glass down with a definite thump, his eyes going to Gabriel's. "Since everyone else is too nervous about appearing _nice_ , I'm just going to come right out and say it."

"Clint—" Steve started.

" _No_ , Steve." Clint didn't even look at him. "After the hell we've been put through, we deserve some answers. And since you're back together now, that means you can't skip out on answering them by saying you don't remember."

Gabriel stilled, hands in his pockets. "That doesn't mean I'll answer."

"Fair warning then," Clint said, "a non-answer's just as good as an answer in our line of work."

Lips pursing, Gabriel deliberately didn't say anything, raising his eyebrows pointedly.

Clint pulled in a deep breath. "Okay, first of all, what the _fuck_ was up with the Trickster."

Tilting his head, Gabriel thought the non-question was a bit vague. "You going to be a bit more specific there?"

"No, because I'd _like_ an explanation for all of it!" Clint retorted. "He – you killed three people, Tony."

Given all the build-up, Gabriel had expected a stronger opening. "Is that all?"

"What do you mean ' _is that all_?'" Clint spluttered indignantly. "Are you going to ignore that?"

Gabriel waited a beat and when nothing else was forthcoming he sighed. "Is that your only issue? I've killed a lot more than three people during my stint as the Trickster and every one of them deserved it."

"That doesn't exactly make things better," Steve said, watching Tony with something unreadable in his gaze.

"What do you want me to say? I'm sorry and I regret it?" Gabriel shook his head. "I'm not sorry and I don't regret it. It was a job and I did it."

"No one _gave_ you that job!" Clint argued. "You gave it to yourself!"

"I made up the Trickster, but that doesn't mean I made up the job," Gabriel said coldly. "Do you think I was _just_ the Messenger?"

"The archangel of mercy and justice," Jarvis murmured, looking at the floor. "I remember."

"That was Michael's job," Gadreel said after a moment, confused.

"Yeah, you said something like that before." Rhodey was looking at Gabriel, but there was nothing accusing in the look.

"Sure it was." Gabriel couldn't stop a hint of bitterness from creeping into his tone. "Until he got tired of it and left it to me to step in. So I wasn't Gabriel at the time, but that didn't mean I couldn't mete out justice. That was my _job_ , and that was handed down to me by my brother."

"It didn't seem like he was doing it because it was a job," Natasha said. "He didn't like humans, and he thought it was funny that they had their own crimes turned around on them."

That _was_ what he'd thought, as the Trickster. He'd enjoyed himself with what humanity offered and used any source he could find to do so – even if it meant playing deadly pranks and the like. Gabriel got the feeling that saying that wouldn't generate a lot of pleasant feelings.

Besides, it wasn't like it _wasn't_ funny to see people be punished with their worst crimes. Humans said it all the time whenever they wanted someone to get "what was coming to them." Gabriel just had the ability to do it and nudge people back on track.

Or just do it for shits and giggles. He'd gotten bored.

"The Trickster just had the worst memories of humanity to draw from," Gabriel settled on saying. "You're lucky he didn't go after those who didn't deserve it."

"We're 'lucky'?" Natasha's eyebrows had nearly disappeared under her bangs. "And what's that supposed to mean? We're lucky the Trickster had enough remnants of you in him to care enough not to kill even more arbitrarily?"

"That's not what I meant." Had it been? Gabriel had just been trying to give them an honest answer, but it wasn't like he _enjoyed_ putting so much of his remarkably shadowy past out there.

Though it was probably only fair, considering what the Trickster – what _he'd_ pulled from their minds as the Trickster.

"What did you mean, then?" Peggy didn't look remotely sympathetic. "Explain it."

Gabriel had never been so tempted to outright lie, but they were his friends. They didn't deserve that.

He took a minute to answer, searching for the right words. "The Trickster didn't care because I didn't care then." It sounded bad when he said it so plainly. "A lot of stuff happened and I…hit a breaking point. I figured, why not? After being Loki for so long…" He sighed. "After I broke ties with the Norse, I was basically already a Trickster. I just still considered myself a god – _was_ considered one."

"Your breaking point," Clint said flatly. "That's your excuse?"

"I'm not making excuses. You asked for an explanation, so I'm giving you one."

"As explanations go, it's not a bad one," Bruce said slowly, not looking up from his glasses. He had been largely silent during the conversation, and Gabriel wasn't sure if it was because he was thinking or upset.

"Your methods were questionable, but I still agree with your end goal," Loki said, looking outwardly rather bored.

"That isn't helping," Clint snapped, shooting him a glare.

Loki didn't look phased. "You cannot deny that you have felt the same way when it comes to people escaping your legal system, yet you persist on doing nothing because 'that is just the way things are.'"

"Just because you have the power to do something doesn't mean you should," Steve said. "That's just being a bully."

"I'm glad you think so highly of me," Gabriel said dryly.

"By your standards, would you not say that _you_ are a bully?" Loki challenged Steve. "You take care of large-scale threats because you deem them as such, and you do it without regard to their feelings. They threaten your city and everyone living in it. Is it so terrible if someone takes care of smaller threats because they _can_? I am sure the woman who is no longer living in fear of her husband is thankful for the Trickster's interference."

"Not that she knows what truly happened," Jarvis muttered.

"I don't think she'd really want to," Bruce commented.

"You wouldn't change it, would you?" Clint demanded, ignoring both of them. " _Can_ you even change it? Is Doom going to stand there in Times Square until he erodes?"

"You're right," Gabriel said flatly. "I wouldn't change it even if I could. Doom got exactly what he deserved after everything he's tried to pull. I don't kill just because I _like_ it."

" _If_ you could?" Natasha immediately caught onto his phrasing.

"I can't undo it – any of it. Illusions and tricks, sure. But something like what I did to Doom? Nope." Gabriel shrugged. "That's permanent, and to be _entirely_ honest with you, I don't care. It's Doom, and he's an evil dick."

"He's still _human_ ," Clint protested.

"We don't kill people because they're bloody dicks," Peggy said. "That's not what this team is about."

"We've all killed," Gabriel said, annoyed. "Don't get on your high horse just because you disagree with my methods. You were director of _S.H.I.E.L.D.,_ Peggy. You don't get that job or keep it without making a lot of ugly decisions. James and Natasha were assassins, and I know your hands aren't exactly clean either, Clint. Steve and Rhodey are probably the only ones here who've only killed in war, and odds are that record isn't going to hold forever. Pepper's the only one who's got room to talk."

"None of us killed people for _laughs_ ," Clint snapped.

Gabriel drew in a sharp breath, hands clutching tightly at the edges of his jacket. He wasn't here to be raked over the coals because they didn't _understand_. "You're judging me by your standards." His voice was deadly quiet. "Maybe you've forgotten this, but I am _not_ human, and I don't judge things by your morals. They're inconvenient and messy and don't make sense in the larger scheme of things. The sooner you understand that, the happier we'll all be."

"So this is a question of morals," Bruce said, looking up to briefly meet Gabriel's eyes. He turned his gaze to the others.

"It seems to me that it is," Loki said, in the ensuing silence. "The Trickster had no qualms about what he did; you do. It may be because of the difference in species, or in thought, but either way that is the base of the argument."

"The Trickster went too far," Clint said stubbornly.

"With you guys, yeah." Gabriel shrugged. "With the others? It was nothing more than what they'd done."

"We could be here all day arguing over right and wrong and what is too far and what is not," Loki interrupted before the argument could go any further. "But Gabriel, one question: would you do anything like that now?"

Gabriel looked at Loki, taken aback. "What, like what the Trickster did?"

"The same general idea, yes."

He remembered doing in Wilson Fisk and his assistant. For the Trickster it had just been another job, two more people to dispense judgment to and give a taste of their own medicine, but for Gabriel now… He'd go after them and their ilk just because of the damage they wrought because of their own self-delusions and inability to care. And that wasn't what his friends would want to hear.

Gabriel didn't look any of his teammates in the eye. "If I had a reason…"

"I don't believe you," Clint snapped.

"I said within reason. Any one of the guys we go after on practically a daily basis would give me a good enough one!" Gabriel retorted. "Would you blame me, if I did something then?"

"You _did_ do something like that already to Doom," Peggy reminded him.

"And I don't recall any of you complaining."

"I am definitely not," Bruce muttered under his breath, going back to cleaning his glasses.

Several of his teammates exchanged meaningful looks, which Gabriel hoped meant that they were at least thinking about what he'd said.

"The Trickster targeted people over more petty things," Steve brought up. "What about that?"

Gabriel ran a hand over his face. "That's different."

"How? It's the same principle."

"It's—" How to explain it? Even he didn't quite understand just _what_ he was anymore or how to explain his views. "I'm not _just_ the Trickster anymore. There's more…other viewpoints, I guess, that I take into account. The Trickster was just one part of that."

"One-fourth fails to represent the whole accurately," Loki guessed.

"Exactly." Gabriel said, feeling almost relieved that at least _one_ of them got it, even if it was a god. "I – I'm _not_ human. But…there's human in me. The Trickster didn't have that. He didn't have my experiences – the history I have with humanity. Which is what I meant when I said you were damn lucky he didn't go after the innocent. _I_ was the one who established that criteria when I became the Trickster, and he could have just as well decided to make his own rules."

"So the Trickster is the part of you that has the least bit of you in him," Pepper said, her eyes on nothing in particular. "Sounds like a bit of an oxymoron."

"No one said any of this made sense," Gabriel said lightly, trying to raise the metaphorical darkness that had settled over the conversation.

"And what about Loki, then?" Natasha met Gabriel's gaze challengingly. "He didn't seem to be much like you, either."

"I had to hide." Gabriel considered how much of Loki's backstory he should share, because that vessel of his hadn't exactly been _human_. "I _had_ to hide," he started again, "and that meant becoming someone different. So I did. If a pagan god popped up around the same time as me disappearing and _acted_ like me…" He shuddered, thinking of what Michael would have done to him. Knowing what he knew now of the systematic reprogramming of his siblings, it was very likely they would have done that to _him_ , his rank of archangel be damned.

"It wouldn't have worked out well," Steve concluded quietly, having reached the same conclusion as Gabriel.

"No." Gabriel shared a look with Gadreel, seeing a silent horror in his brother's eyes.

"They would have hurt you?" Peggy sounded disbelieving. "Though you're an archangel?"

"An archangel left Heaven and said 'hell no.'" Gabriel's lips stretched into a sardonic smile. "Michael would have taken that personally. And if they'd caught me, I would've served as an example for the others, showing them that not even an archangel is above the rules."

His rejection of everything to do with Heaven as Loki hadn't just been rebellion; it had been absolutely necessary for him to continue down his path of self-determination.

And probably his survival.

"So you turned yourself into the opposite of what an angel should be," Natasha said musingly. "Including adopting the gods' attitudes towards them."

Gabriel nodded once, even though that wasn't entirely the truth. But it wasn't something they needed to know. Only Gadreel and Jarvis knew anything else.

"Loki was _angry_ , though," James said, shooting a glance at Clint. "He flew off the hook when Clint mentioned Baldur. But I suppose you knew that, since you were spying on us and all."

"If he'd suspected anything, it wouldn't have worked." Gabriel knew they wouldn't be happy about it, but at least he'd been right in guessing that at least _some_ of them would understand.

"Being that angry isn't a great idea," Bruce muttered. "Even if it's just a part of you." He looked pained.

"Look, I'm not saying I disagree with that choice," James said, putting up his hands placatingly and glancing at Bruce. "You know yourself better than we do. But you could've warned us that Baldur was such a tricky subject."

"You'll notice he's not gearing up to choke you," Clint said snarkily.

" _Clint._ " Pepper sounded exasperated. "Could you hold off being so hostile for three seconds?"

"What, I'm not allowed to be mad about that?"

"I did apologize," Gabriel said, resisting the urge to pinch his nose. "Loki's me, but _I'm_ not Loki. I can handle Baldur; Loki's another issue."

"What's the difference?" Rhodey asked.

"With _just_ Loki, it's more of a…sore spot. The way it ended up, I never went back to Asgard, and to a god, not being able to stay in their own pantheon is a big deal." Gabriel shrugged. "The way I am now, it doesn't matter as much."

"You mentioned Odin," Natasha said curiously. "What did that have to do with him?"

Gabriel deliberately didn't look over at Loki. "Just about everything, really. I did tell you…Loki's _the_ original trickster."

Steve frowned, tilting his head in thought. The others looked to also be putting the pieces together.

"Baldur was Odin's son," Steve said slowly. "And you've said the Trickster only gives back what's due."

"Whose kids did he murder?" Clint blurted out, eyes widening.

Gabriel couldn't stop a wince passing over his face. They weren't dead, but they might as well have been for everything Odin had done to them. It was one of many regrets Gabriel had – that he hadn't been able to help them the way he _could_ have.

"There are a few things gods hate as much as things they don't understand," Gabriel said eventually, subdued. "And what they don't understand or what they fear, they'll try to destroy or, if they can't, imprison. There was…nothing I could do at that point. I couldn't touch Odin, not if I wanted to be able to keep pretending to be Loki. So I paid him back the only way I could. I left afterwards. Didn't see much of the Norse after that."

Gabriel didn't doubt that they noticed that he didn't answer Clint's question, but he hoped they wouldn't press for more. It had been hard enough thinking about them again when Loki had asked; he didn't feel like repeating the entire story for their benefit.

"I think that is enough," Loki said sharply, interrupting Peggy before she could begin speaking and giving her a sharp look. "The past is the past, and rehashing it is useless in this case. I warned you all before that you may not like his answers."

"It's all right, Loki," Gabriel said tiredly, though he gave him a grateful smile that disappeared as quickly as he'd managed to force it. "Given everything that's happened, I'd be surprised if they didn't have questions. I don't mind answering."

"I _know_ that is a lie, Gabriel."

"If you're not comfortable talking about this—" Pepper began.

"No. You guys deserve answers." Gabriel shook his head. "However I feel—"

"Still affects this discussion," Loki cut him off. "If you do not wish to discuss this, then you don't have to answer. Our curiosity is not worth it."

Anything he didn't want to talk about, he hadn't mentioned. It wasn't as if they'd know if he left something out.

"Was that it, or…?" Gabriel clapped his hands together, then let them fall by his side. He _hoped_ they were done asking questions.

"I have one more," Pepper said, slightly hesitant. "And you don't have to answer this, but I'm still going to ask. Why didn't you _tell_ us?"

"If I told you everything that'd happened in my past, we would be standing here for _really_ long time."

"I don't mean that," Pepper said. "We all have our secrets. I meant what happened in your old home. While you were gone."

Gabriel's breath caught in his throat at the reminder. He struggled not to show anything on his face, but judging from the others' reflexive twitches, he'd probably failed.

"I…" Gabriel dropped his eyes, resisting the urge to make himself smaller. He rubbed his face, reminding himself to keep breathing even as his throat ached. Restraining himself from touching his throat just to make sure, Gabriel let his hand drop back to his side, turning his face upwards to avoid meeting anyone's eyes.

"You don't have to answer," Pepper repeated her earlier words.

"I know," he murmured. "It…it wasn't because I didn't trust you. I just…couldn't. There was no need to."

"I understand not wanting to tell us," Rhodey said gently. "But, man, you have to know that we noticed something was up. We were just waiting on you to be ready."

It wasn't something Gabriel would ever be ready to share, but he was grateful for their consideration. There were some things that just… _couldn't_ be said.

"Thanks for that," Gabriel said quietly. "That…wasn't how I was planning on talking about it." Not that he really had been at all. Mostly he'd been planning on trying to ignore it and dealing with it on his own. It had been working well enough so far, even with a few minor incidents.

Loki and Gadreel both looked like they knew exactly what he was thinking, while Natasha and Pepper and Rhodey seemed to suspect it.

Clearing his throat, Gabriel plastered on a bright smile. "That everything now?"

Natasha was looking at him like she knew exactly how fake that smile was. "I guess so," she said. "You're off the hook. For now." She raised her eyebrows.

The smile came a bit easier now, and Gabriel couldn't help but snort. "Thank you for your permission."

"As if you ever needed that," Natasha said wryly. "If you didn't want to answer our questions, you could have just left anytime."

Gabriel shrugged in reply. "True enough." But he'd owed them that much at least after what he'd put them through as the Trickster.

"So what happens now?" Pepper asked. "Things just…go back to normal?"

"I doubt it." Not after everything that had happened. "But at least we don't need to deal with any more supernatural threats," Gabriel said cheerfully.

"Don't say things like that or you'll jinx us," Peggy replied, smiling back. "And I'd hate to deal with any more."

"Besides, aren't _you_ supernatural?" James asked. "And Loki. Or anyone else that uses magic."

"Loki's hardly a threat – to us, at least," Rhodey pointed out, seeming not to see the face Steve made and the scrunched eyebrows from Gadreel. Loki just looked mildly amused.

"Fine, there won't be any more supernatural threats from my old world. Maybe." Things could always go terribly wrong, but Gabriel felt like letting himself be optimistic.

"Maybe?" Pepper snorted. "I hope that doesn't mean there's a possibility that something might get over here."

"Depends how much Reed pokes at other dimensions," Gabriel joked. "There isn't, really, but how much impossible stuff have we dealt with at this point?"

"That's just improbable now," Bruce pointed out. "Not impossible."

"There's no need to get overly technical," James said, throwing an arm over Bruce's shoulders.

Bruce didn't look ruffled. "I'm just saying – there's a difference between the two. I would've said the existence of Tony and Gadreel was a scientific impossibility before, but now I just know it's highly improbable."

Gabriel snorted, disguising it as a cough when Gadreel looked at him.

"What of my existence?" Loki asked, sounding almost curious if Gabriel didn't know for a fact that was his "I'm going to stir up shit" face.

"That's easy," Bruce said easily. "You're an alien."

Loki looked so affronted that Gabriel ducked his head, grinning broadly. " _Excuse_ me?"

"No, that makes sense," James said. "Seriously, Rhodes, back us up here."

"It's true," Rhodey agreed. "You're not native to Earth, which makes you an alien even if you're a god. Technically speaking, though, that makes Tony and Gadreel aliens, too."

"Hey, I have a birth certificate," Gabriel protested.

"Yeah, but you're not _originally_ from here." Rhodey didn't look at all apologetic. "So you're an alien. Just…an alien that could wipe us out without breaking a sweat."

"Basically he's every Hollywood movie director's nightmare come to life," Clint summarized, moving his glass over to Natasha to get a refill. "Or possible fangasm."

"Please never call me a fangasm again," Gabriel said, wrinkling his nose. "I don't even want to think about what Hollywood might do to a premise like this."

"Have you fall in love with the nearest woman who redeems you with the power of love," Pepper suggested.

"An orgy," Natasha said blandly, putting some ice cubes in her glass.

"A sassy black friend," Rhodey added.

"You go through a midlife crisis that's millions of years late and it's your girlfriend that kicks you into gear and says you need to save the world," Clint offered.

"Satan's the villain," James said.

"I think I'll take the orgy, thanks," Gabriel said after a moment. "Sounds like a lot more fun."

"Sounds like the making of a porno," Clint said. "A bad one."

Considering some things he'd done (the message he'd left the Winchesters being the main example), Clint wasn't that far off. "Still more interesting than any of the other options," Gabriel replied.

"I don't think you could make an entire movie out of that," Pepper told him, looking amused.

"Watch me."

"No, thanks, Tony. I'd rather not have that image in my head."

"Yeah, I don't need that either." But the wrinkled nose Rhodey was sporting said otherwise. It probably helped that he and Tony had walked in on each numerous times in MIT al flagrante.

"We could put together something from the sex tapes," Bruce mused, apparently not seeing the horrified looks from the rest of the team. Gabriel was too desperately trying not to break down laughing to really bother.

"I will have Jarvis take those down," Pepper threatened. " _All_ of them. He can do that."

"I certainly can," Jarvis said easily, "but then where shall I get my entertainment? All his current videos have him clothed."

"I can take them off—" Gabriel started.

"Please don't."

"It'll be a public relations nightmare!" Pepper protested.

"Not if the rest of us join in," James said, grinning. "Like…for charity."

As the others started debating the merits of a sex tape for charity and whether it should actually be a thing, Gabriel relaxed, letting the calm wash over him.

It wasn't quite what he needed, but it'd do for now.

* * *

 **I am going to blame inukagome completely for that last bit...anyway, read and review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**And here's the last chapter! I will blame inukagome for most of the stuff at the end, with Steve and Peggy and Tony, but they do know the characters in that way better than I do. There's some serious stuff going on, but things are all right.**

* * *

The night sky was beautiful with no human lights to hide the stars. The air was humid and warm, smelling of rain. If he sharpened his hearing, he could even hear the storm front rolling in, bringing thunder and lightning.

It was absolutely gorgeous, and there wasn't a single human around.

Lying back in the sand of the beach he had sequestered himself on, Tony closed his eyes, letting the salty breeze wash over him.

It was exactly what he needed after everything that had happened.

Memories still sat in his mind that he knew he'd need to go over at some point. Memories of what else he'd done, what his other parts had gotten up to. Gabriel's were at the forefront, mostly; it was primarily space and Gabriel seeking out whatever solace he could find in a universe where he had to rediscover that there was no Heaven.

Later, of course, there were the memories of the tower and how Gabriel had helped, but for now Tony let himself relax, his mind's eye wandering past nebulas and stars. It wasn't like he didn't deserve some time alone to recuperate.

It was a few hours later when Gadreel arrived with a soft flutter of wings several dozen feet away. The storm front Tony had sensed earlier was visible over the waters, but still far away enough that they had some time before it was close enough to the beach to be a bother. He could already hear the faint rumbles of thunder.

Tony didn't look over as Gadreel slowly walked over, his shoes sinking into the sand and scattering particles into the wind as he lifted them. "Ever been on a beach before?"

"No." Gadreel came to a stop next to where Tony was lying, eyes scanning the horizon. "It's beautiful."

"No one's made it here yet," Tony said, propping himself up on his elbows. "It's untouched."

Gadreel took a moment before responding, head dropping to meet Tony's gaze. "I'm sorry for disturbing you. I can leave if you want."

"It's all right." Tony shrugged, settling back down. "Take a seat."

Gadreel did, looking only faintly surprised at how soft the sand was. He ran his fingers through it, picking up a handful and letting it fall back to the ground. "This is sand?"

"Beach sand. You get darker shades depending on where you're at." Tony picked out a shell that he'd nicked when he'd first arrived. "Kids like collecting these."

Gadreel took the shell, inspecting it carefully. "This is for oysters, isn't it?"

"And some other marine animals." Tony watched as a pair of seagulls flew over their heads, crying out at nothing in particular.

He watched as Gadreel put the sea shell into a pocket before the other settled down to watch the oncoming storm approach. Gadreel didn't make any move to break the silence, so Tony let himself relax, watching as the light gradually faded from the sky as the sun's rays disappeared behind the storm.

"Try putting it to your ear," he said after a moment. Gadreel glanced down at him; Tony could tell he was surprised without looking.

"Why?"

"You can hear the ocean in shells." Tony told him, keeping a straight face.

Giving him a suspicious look, Gadreel pulled the shell out, holding it closely to his ear. It took a few seconds before he said, "This is just the echo of the blood circulating in my ear."

"Oh, come _on_ ," Tony groaned, slapping at Gadreel's arm. "It's supposed to be _poetic_. You put the shell to your ear, listen to it, and then say it's the ocean!"

Gadreel looked confused. "I hear the ocean?"

"That's the spirit."

Giving the shell one last speculative look, Gadreel put it back into his pocket. "I gather that's something humans do."

"They're good at that," Tony agreed, linking his hands behind his head. "Dreaming up new things, always going for the next big thing… They're constantly changing."

"I see why you fell in love with them," Gadreel said quietly, his jacket collar fluttering in a particularly sharp gust of wind sent ahead from the incoming storm. "They are different, but that's what makes them unique."

"Along with all the other crap that comes along with being human," Tony said. "But that's part of living."

There was a rumble of thunder, and Tony saw flashes of light in the clouds.

After another few minutes, Tony said quietly, "You didn't come here to talk about humans."

Sighing, Gadreel tilted his head back to look at the darkening sky. "It isn't terribly important."

"But it's bugging you."

"Yes," Gadreel admitted after a moment, frowning slightly as he registered the figure of speech. His expression cleared quickly, and then he glanced down at Gabriel. "It was something Loki said. The Loki that was you, I mean."

"He said a few different things," Gabriel said slowly. "What's bothering you in particular?"

"The bleed-over he mentioned…" Gadreel visibly hesitated, one hand gripping his leg tightly. "He suggested that you must have hated an angel to despise them so much – that it…might even have been yourself."

Letting out a long, slow breath, Gabriel looked away from Gadreel, eyes going to the storm that was increasing in intensity. "I'm not proud of a lot of the things I've done," he said finally. "That's not to say I wouldn't do it again, but…I didn't _like_ it."

"Because of what you became?"

"I left Heaven," Gabriel said. "And I didn't think about what Michael and Raphael would do once I did. But I just couldn't _stand_ it up there anymore. So I…"

"Left," Gadreel finished when Gabriel didn't continue.

"Yeah." The word left him on an exhale, Gabriel's eyes closing. "If I'd been there…maybe I could have stopped some of what Michael and Raphael pulled." Or maybe they would have stopped him. Gabriel had absolutely no idea.

"What happened wasn't your fault," Gadreel said softly. "You had nothing to do with it."

"Because I wasn't there." Gabriel rested his hand on the sand, running his fingers through the fine grains. "I'm an _archangel,_ Gadreel. I could have done something." He was the fourth most powerful being in Heaven, and everything had still ended up hitting rock bottom. "What happened to you was the least of it. If I'd known…"

He wouldn't have been brave enough to confront Michael about it, much less do anything to try and get Gadreel out, if he was being completely honest with himself. What could he have done, without appearing like he was sympathizing with someone associated with Lucifer's side? Archangel or not, back then if he'd done anything like that most likely he would have been the next Fallen.

"That was not your doing," Gadreel replied. A tremor had gone through his Grace at the mention of his punishment. "You cannot blame yourself for that."

"It wasn't just that." Gabriel shook his head, staring up at the sky and the dusting of stars. "Ever since the Fall…so much went wrong. And I _ran,_ instead of trying to do actually anything about it."

Father had forgiven him for it, and Gabriel _knew_ it had been the right decision for him. But had it been the best one for his family?

"But you did," Gadreel said, his attention on Gabriel. "You _did_. You faced down Lucifer and gave the Winchesters the tools they needed."

"Yeah, because Dean verbally kicked my ass and made me realize what a coward I'd been."

"You are _not_ a coward, Gabriel." Gadreel turned sharply towards him, eyes piercing. "You never have been."

"Cowards run." Gabriel avoided Gadreel's eyes. "And I did."

"A coward wouldn't have returned," Gadreel persisted.

"Just because of _one_ thing—"

" _Not_ one thing," Gadreel cut him off. "You have done so much _good._ You've helped many people."

"As if that makes a difference?"

"It _does._ "

"Gadreel, saving people here doesn't change things so that what I did before never happened." Gabriel sat up, putting himself on the same level as his brother. "Or make up for what I didn't do. I had a responsibility and I ducked it because I couldn't deal with what was going wrong."

"You weren't responsible for all of Heaven." Gadreel wasn't nearly as calm as he'd been before, brow furrowing. "That was Michael's job."

"Yeah, well, Michael had a lot of jobs. Didn't mean he _did_ them," Gabriel said, trying not to sound bitter and failing.

"Just because Michael forced _one_ of his responsibilities on you doesn't mean you had to take _all_ of them," Gadreel said forcefully.

"Someone had to do it!"

"And that someone had to be you? It couldn't be Raphael?"

"Raphael wasn't doing anything about it either! What was I supposed to do, force them to do their jobs?" Gabriel snapped. "You _know_ how dangerous confronting Michael about something like that would have been. Even before the Fall—" He cut himself off then, not wanting to go down that line of thought.

The truth was, Michael had always been dangerous.

Gadreel was looking at him like he knew exactly what Gabriel had been about to say. "Looking out for yourself," he said softly, "does not lay the blame for what happened on you. You say you failed to prevent it. Were you even in a position to stop it in the first place? To fix it?"

"It's _because_ I wasn't there that I couldn't! I should have stayed!"

"Our Father forgave you for that. He _said_ you'd made the right choice, Gabriel."

Gabriel, torn between saying what he wanted to and flat-out disagreeing with what He had said, looked away, staying silent. He heard Gadreel heave a sigh.

"Just because you had the capability to help—" he began.

"I should have," Gabriel said, still not looking at Gadreel.

"And so you blame yourself for everything that went wrong?"

"Do you have _any idea_ —" Gabriel forced his anger down, because no, Gadreel didn't have any way of knowing, and getting angry wasn't going to help. It would just end up hurting Gadreel if he lost control of himself. "What Raphael and Michael did – if I'd been there—"

"You could have stopped what they did?" Gadreel shook his head. "No, brother. We both know that Michael was too determined. I may not know much of what happened the first time Lucifer was freed, but I do know that there was no avoiding it."

"I'm the one who _gave_ them that Message," Gabriel forced out. "That it was supposed to happen."

"Isn't there a saying they have? 'Don't shoot the messenger'?" Gadreel replied. "Delivering a message doesn't make you the root of the problem. If Michael was so fixated on the content, then that is _his_ fault. Not yours."

Gabriel stayed quiet, and Gadreel seemed to take that as permission to reach out a hand, offering a comforting touch. "You're a good man," he said quietly, "and I don't wish to hear you devalue yourself."

Gabriel relaxed under the touch, letting their Graces intermingle. "Not so much a man," he murmured.

Gadreel didn't let that distract him, persisting. "You're my brother, Gabriel, and I love you. You remember what I said before I came here with you, don't you?"

Swallowing, Gabriel nodded once.

"That hasn't changed any," Gadreel said quietly, pressing their shoulders together. "You warned me that this place was different – that there were none of our siblings, but that doesn't matter. I spent so long in Heaven's prison…suddenly hearing the Host again was overwhelming. You offered me peace and forgiveness that I hadn't known for years."

"What happened wasn't your fault," Gabriel said. "You trusted Lucifer—"

"As you trusted Michael and Raphael?" Gadreel's hand squeezed Gabriel's shoulder gently. "If what happened wasn't my fault, then this wasn't yours either. You've made mistakes, brother; we all have. But there is no need to take on the weight of Michael's and Raphael's as well."

"I still could have done something different," Gabriel muttered.

"And I could have chosen not to let Lucifer into the Garden," Gadreel replied. "There are many ways we both could have gone, in the past. But I speak the truth; it wasn't your fault."

Gabriel looked away, Gadreel's unconditional belief in him suddenly too much to handle. He knew there was some truth in what Gadreel was saying, but if it was true, then he would have to admit that there had been no way of fixing what had gone wrong. That it wasn't just _his_ fault but also Michael's and Raphael's. That he had no influence over their actions because they _wouldn't_ have listened to him, would have shut him down before he could have even tried.

That didn't mean it was easy to accept, that he _wasn't_ at fault for what had happened. The words couldn't just silence what he'd been telling himself for so long. The human soul that was a part of him affected him, but it didn't make him any quicker to change.

Gadreel's arm moved to settle around his shoulders, and Gadreel by now was much closer to Gabriel than he'd been before. "Blaming yourself will not change what happened, brother," he said softly. "Nor what you chose to do."

Gabriel snorted. "I know _that_."

"Then why do you continue doing so?"

"For the same reason humans do." Gabriel rubbed his face. "Because I keep going back and looking at what happened, looking to see what I _missed_ because I was too ignorant to see what was right in front of my face, and I know I could have done better. I know objectively that I couldn't have done anything, but that doesn't change what I feel."

Gadreel took a few seconds to respond, the words slow in coming. "I think I understand."

"It's not just a human tendency," Gabriel said, the corner of his lips tugging up in a small smile.

"No, it isn't." Gadreel returned the smile with one of his rare ones that didn't look like someone had painted it on. "But," he added, "I hope you'll think about it."

Sighing, Gabriel pulled his right leg to his chest. "I told Loki one time that we change slowly. It doesn't come easily, even if you know something's wrong."

"You can still try," Gadreel said. "Even if it's difficult. Wasn't it you who said that whether or not something was easy didn't dictate when to give up?"

"Yeah, along with several other humans." The reproachful look Gadreel shot him wasn't at all surprising. "Which doesn't mean it's not true."

"But you'll try?" Gadreel asked, worry clear in his tone. "If this happens again – unlikely as it may be – I would rather not listen to Loki or any other version of you once more say that you hate yourself."

"Yes." Gabriel met his gaze. "I'll try." Then, because he was just that much of a dick, he said, "But how likely are you to know if it's actually working? It's not like you knew before."

" _Gabriel_."

"That's my name."

Gadreel sighed, glancing away for a moment. "Does it help you," he asked, "to make light of things constantly?"

Subdued, Gabriel looked down at the sand, where he'd absentmindedly buried his fingers. "Having fun got a little more fun if I compared it to all the crap I knew I'd have been tangled up in."

"So you regret leaving, and yet you do not regret it." Gadreel sounded puzzled.

"I _do._ It's just—" Gabriel made a frustrated noise. "I wish I didn't have to."

"Is it the circumstances, perhaps, that you regret?" Gadreel suggested.

"…Maybe," Gabriel admitted, leaning back again and lying on his back. What was he supposed to say, if even _he_ had trouble figuring out exactly what he felt? Especially when the conversation centered on events that had taken place thousands of years ago. "I just…tried to distract myself, I guess. From everything."

"From what I understand, this is also a human thing."

"And angel." Most of his siblings hadn't reacted well – to the Fall, to the absence of Father's presence – even if it hadn't been immediately obvious. Michael distanced himself, while other angels found their own ways to cope. "It's a 'having a conscious mind' thing. The need to…try and escape reality when reality sucks."

"I can sympathize." Gadreel's face was turned towards the storm, but his eyes looked somewhere much farther away. "If there is no option to leave…"

Gabriel found Gadreel's hand and gripped it. "You've got the world at your fingertips now," he said lightly. "Like you said. Can't change what already happened."

"If you only reluctantly took that advice, I hardly think you should be the one to repeat it back to me." Gadreel was smiling faintly, though, when he looked back down at Gabriel.

"Hey, I'm allowed to be a hypocrite."

"I don't believe that's a good thing."

Gabriel shrugged. "Maybe not. But everyone's a hypocrite in some shape or form."

Gadreel didn't seem convinced, eyebrows scrunching together. "You're sure of this?"

"As someone who's spent a _lot_ of time with humans and their ilk, trust me," Gabriel said, nudging Gadreel's side. "Being a hypocrite isn't necessarily a _bad_ thing, all right?"

"I don't see how that can be," Gadreel said. "Isn't it bad, to do the opposite of what you tell others to do?"

"On the big things, it makes you untrustworthy, yeah," Gabriel agreed, remembering quite a few times during his human lifetime when he had done so. "But on the small things, it's okay. Especially if you want others to be happier."

Gadreel was silent for a moment. Then, in a soft voice: "But what about you?"

Gabriel watched the storm for a few minutes; he could taste the rain now, and his face was wet with seawater. "It takes a little work," he said quietly. "But I'll get there." Giving Gadreel a small smile, he added, "I promise."

* * *

"You're moping."

"I'm not _moping_."

"I know how you look when you're moping, and James agrees with me on this."

"What reason do I have to mope?"

"Well, for starters, you haven't talked with him since he pulled himself back together."

Hovering outside the kitchen, Tony had the uneasy feeling that he shouldn't be listening in on this. But then again, this kitchen wasn't exactly _private_.

Why would Steve be moping?

Sure, he hadn't exactly _approved_ of Tony's life choices and his morals, but that was one of the things they knew they wouldn't agree on. Just because Steve knew a little more about Tony than he had a month ago didn't change that.

There was a small sigh from Steve. "I don't know what to _say_."

"About what?" There was a small rustling noise as Peggy did something. "Or is this about what we talked about before?"  
Steve didn't respond, but Tony could just picture the rather guilty look on his face.

"Why are you so worried?" Peggy's voice was soft.

"I just…" Steve's voice was just as soft. "I don't know…"

"I think you do."

"I'm…" Steve sighed, the sound followed by another rustling noise that was probably him putting his head in his hands. "I want to." His voice was muffled. "But everytime I do, I just think about what happened last time and I just…freeze."

Peggy's tone was carefully neutral. "Did he hurt you?"

"Nothing like that, no!" Steve answered quickly. "But it was…uncomfortable."

"Oh, Steve…" Peggy laughed. "Emotional conversations aren't _supposed_ to be comfortable."

Leaning back against the wall, Tony put his head back, looking up at the ceiling. He could feel JARVIS eyeing him disapprovingly for eavesdropping on this, but he'd eavesdropped on a lot more personal conversations entirely by accident, and this wasn't even _his fault_.

"But I don't even know what to _say_ ," Steve was saying, woebegone.

"Do you even have to say anything?" Peggy asked gently.

"Yes, I do." The words and tone were adamant. "I want to know what the hell you meant by 'sorting it out,' and since you won't tell me, I have to ask Tony."

There was only one thing Steve could want to know about Peggy and Tony, and that wasn't something Tony really wanted to talk about.

As he'd said to both Gadreel and Steve, emotional topics were _really_ not his forte.

"Whatever you decide, I'll be here for you," Peggy said. "I just won't be physically in the room."

"You're part of the conversation," Steve said.

There was a short pause. "If you're absolutely sure…"

"I am, Peggy."

Tony took a moment to compose himself, trying to make it less obvious that he had listened in on this. Then, bolstering himself, he pushed away from the wall and walked into the kitchen, giving both Steve and Peggy a nod.

"Fancy seeing you here and not in your own kitchen," Tony said easily, making a beeline for the fridge. "Or were you planning on cooking for something so J doesn't have to?"

His back to the two, Tony didn't see Peggy nudging Steve, but he did hear the rustling and the small breath Steve took.

"Actually," Steve started, "I wanted to talk with you."

Grabbing a juice bottle so that he'd have something to play with, Tony closed the fridge, leaning back against it. "I'm here."

Steve took another few seconds before he nodded to himself, frowning slightly. "Peggy said you guys sorted something out when it came to me."

"That sounds dirty," Tony said before he could stop himself.

"I may not have a rubber ball, but I'm sure I can do something with the fruit bowl," Peggy said.

"Please," Steve pleaded. "Can you listen?"

Fingers rubbing patterns in the moisture on the bottle, Tony nodded. "I am. I promise."

"What did she mean by that?" Steve asked. "What did you guys do?"

"It's nothing bad, Steve." Tony moved forwards, pulling out the chair opposite of Steve and sitting down. "But I'll go on the record to say Peggy suggested it."

"You agreed," Peggy pointed out.

"You know why I did."

"Why don't you explain it to me instead of talking in circles?" Steve sounded frustrated. "You don't want to see what I'm picturing at the moment."

Tony bit back the instinctive joke in favor of taking a breath and nodding. "You know what we talked about before."

Steve's eyes darkened and he nodded, swallowing audibly. "Yeah. Hard to forget."

"Well…" Tony tried to think of a good way to phrase the next bit. "Peggy and I had a little talk after she came here."

"Should I be worried?"

As most of this was Peggy's fault as Tony would have been perfectly happy just rolling along and doing his thing without any of this "possibly-in-a-weird-threesome" mess, he gave her a pointed look, tapping his apple juice definitively on the table.

Peggy looked back at him for a few seconds before sighing and nodding. "I noticed how you looked at him, Steve. He cured my Alzheimer's and gave me a choice because he wanted _you_ to be happy. It took me a few days to really make sense of what I was seeing."

"And that led to what?"

"A threesome," Tony drawled, getting a glare from Peggy for his input.

"It's _not_ a threesome," Peggy insisted.

"Possibly a threesome," Tony conceded.

Steve was frowning. "It can't be a threesome if I _don't know about it_."

"Which is why ' _possibly_.'"

"There is no 'possibly,'" Peggy disagreed.

This wasn't a fight Tony was going to win, but he was definitely going to send some books for Peggy to read. He shrugged in acquiescence and returned his focus to Steve.

Steve didn't look impressed. "That still doesn't tell me what you guys _talked about_. The longer you avoid the issue, the more I'll think that you set something up behind my back. Which you technically _did_."

There was a stab of guilt in Tony's chest, because what Steve said was _true_. Tony had just never thought that it was something Steve _needed_ to be told. Nothing had changed, and that had been the entire point of the agreement between him and Peggy.

"I didn't think it necessary," Tony said honestly.

"Yeah, well, I do," Steve said flatly. "So what's this you set up between the two of you?"

"Nothing, really," Tony said. "We just keep things the same."

"Then what was the _point_?"

"That was the point," Peggy said when Tony didn't. She rested a hand on Steve's shoulder, the touch gentle. "I could see what was going on between the two of you, and I didn't want that to change simply because I was there. So I asked that nothing change, that he continue to be there for you the way he had always been. We both want what's best for you, Steve; we always will."

It took Steve a moment to respond, and when he did his voice wavered slightly. "Did either of you think about _asking_ me what I wanted? Instead of cooking up this _arrangement_?"

Tony's grip tightened on the juice bottle, the plastic denting dangerously under the pressure. "…No," he admitted. "I didn't think about it." Because nothing had _changed_.

"Of course you didn't," Steve murmured, sounding slightly disappointed. "Peggy?"

"I've become too used to keeping secrets," Peggy said slowly. "Even if I no longer have to. I'm sorry."

Eyes on the juice bottle that was now irreparably squeezed to hell, Tony slowly opened it to relieve the pressure. It sighed in relief. "Do you want things to change?"

"Which means what?" Steve asked, alarmed.

"Whatever you want it to."

"Tony…I _liked_ how things were – are. I would've liked to know what you two talked about, but late's better than never. I don't want anything to change." Steve brought his hands into visible view, stretching out to gently pry the bottle out of Tony's grip. "I don't get why you needed to have this conversation in the first place."

"Generally," Tony started slowly, desperately wanting something in his hands now that the juice bottle was out of reach, "when people enter a relationship, things tend to change. I wasn't planning on anything changing, but Peggy brought it up." He gave a one-shouldered shrug, not sure what else to add.

"He could be there for you in ways I couldn't," Peggy said. "And I know some who wouldn't be comfortable having their partner in an intimate relationship like that."

"An emotional affair," Tony said dryly.

"Peggy." Steve looked pained. "You're not _lacking_."

"Perhaps not now, but later?" Peggy's voice was calm. "I know my limits, Steve. Besides, I love you, and I know that talking with Tony makes you happy."

"Talking with _you_ makes me happy."

"You talk with Tony over just about everything," Peggy said quietly. "Including things you hesitate to share with James and me. And what Tony did for me was only because he did it for you."

Tony kept his eyes on his hands as he felt Steve's gaze flicker to him. He couldn't honestly say that he would have done it for anyone else without them asking him first. Pepper and Rhodey, yes, and the same for his kids. But he didn't have the same relationship with the other Avengers as he did with Steve, even if he was attached to them.

"Okay…" Steve took a deep breath, running a hand over his face. "The crux of this arrangement you two came to was that nothing should change."

When Tony didn't answer beyond a small nod that Steve might have missed, Peggy confirmed with a verbal yes.

"Well, now I know about it," Steve said.

Tony reached for the fruit bowl, picking out an apple. "Meaning what?"

Steve cracked a smile that was hiding far too much mischief. "This is now officially a threesome."

Tony lasted all of three seconds before breaking down into laughter, burying his head in his arms on the table. He could just hear Peggy say "Oh bloody _hell_ , Steve, seriously?" over Steve's too innocent sounding "What?"

"That doesn't mean we're not finished talking about it," Steve said once Tony's laughter had died down, "but I need a bit more time to think on it."

Tossing the apple back in the fruit bowl, Tony grinned at him, utterly relieved. "You know where to find me."

* * *

The next few days were rather awkward, the team trying to find their footing around Tony. As he had other things to take care of, Tony didn't really particularly care. They'd sort it out on their own terms, and it wasn't _his_ job to make them comfortable around him.

He had unfinished business left over from the Trickster, and he hated leaving a job undone. It didn't take long for him to finish with the last of Wilson Fisk's associates, inflicting their own medicine on them. Then, washing his hands of the whole sorry affair, he left the rest of Hell's Kitchen to the so-called Devil.

Once the guy was a bit more established, Tony would see about reaching out to him, but for now they'd leave him alone. Steve's impression of him had been rather vague aside from "tough" and "had a bone to pick with the team." James's had added "stubborn" and "as much as an idiot as Steve."

The picture they'd painted along with the info Gadreel had gleaned from his body while healing him was intriguing, but Tony wasn't that much of a jackass that he was going to stalk the guy and see what he did and then jump on him while he was unaware.

Besides, he had bigger fish to fry.

Loki had returned to Asgard after making sure that everything was fine and there would be no further issues. He and Tony had also caught up on how Loki was handling the whole "advisor to the king" shtick, and while Loki had made some cryptically worrying comments, Tony wasn't going to pry it out of him.

There would come the time that this universe would realize that Earth wasn't unprotected, but hopefully that was still a ways off. Many alien species had other things to worry about than one relatively backwater planet in the Milky Way galaxy, and while Earth hadn't yet made any big waves, things would change eventually.

For now he'd kick back, relax, and do team stuff like go out and kick random villain ass.

Even if the villains were obnoxiously annoying like the Wrecking Crew, since they didn't seem to get the message that things would be a _lot_ less painful for them if they just stayed behind bars.

Not that Tony really blamed them for wanting to get out, since orange was a ridiculously bright color and prison was generally drab, but one would think they'd have gotten the message.

It started with JARVIS alerting Tony in the workshop: "Sir, the Wrecking Crew has been spotted robbing a bank on Fifth Avenue."

"What – again?"

"Yes." JARVIS sounded longsuffering.

They didn't need to bring everyone to handle the four superhumans that made up the Crew, but everyone was itchy enough that it didn't matter. It would make things easier in any case.

" _I call the guy with the really big ball of steel,_ " Clint said over the comms.

Tony didn't even have to look to know that Clint had already taken his position on a building opposite the bank.

" _Crowbar's mine,_ " James said easily.

" _I'll take him, too,_ " Natasha said. " _It'll be fun._ "

" _I'll chase down Piledriver,_ " Peggy said, her motorcycle revving in the background.

" _What – I get the guy who can pound me into the pavement?_ " Steve sounded affronted.

"Relax, Cap." Tony landed in his signature three-point move next to Steve. "I've got your back."

Peggy's motorcycle dropped into view directly before she hit Piledriver with it. She gave the man a mocking salute before revving the engine and driving off, the infuriated villain in hot pursuit and about to run straight into a trap. Hulk would enjoy pummeling him into a pulp.

Natasha and James were tag-teaming Wrecker, both of them too fast for the other to hit with his crowbar.

"You know we could just finish this in five and go get pizza," Tony offered casually, pulling out of range of Bulldozer's charge. He landed behind him and fired a repulsor at his back, knocking him off balance long enough for Steve to get in a good hit.

" _You could,_ " Clint said just as casually, firing an arrow that would net Thunderball's wrecking ball and render it useless, " _but then where would we get our fun?_ "

"Pizza after," James said, punching Wrecker in the face with his left hand.

"Not that it wouldn't be fun seeing you hand their asses to them," Natasha said, slightly breathless.

A repulsor blast reflected off Steve's shield knocked Bulldozer back into an already ruined wall.

"I'd be down for getting this done in five," Steve said, flinging his shield directly into Bulldozer's face. That it knocked the villain out cold was only thanks to a little angelic interference. Catching the shield with one hand, he looked at Tony with a small quirk of the lips that Tony recognized as a silent "thank you."

" _Too fast and it's suspicious,_ " Peggy pointed out. " _They don't go down easy._ "

"Says who?" Natasha electrocuted Wrecker with her Widow's bites, jamming them into his neck after she landed on his shoulders. A quick punch to the head later from a solid metal arm and Wrecker was out for the count. "Thanks, Iron Man."

"For what?" Tony's voice was innocent.

" _Real cute._ " Clint swung down from the building, notching another arrow to his bow and letting it fly, electrocuting Thunderball as it pierced his shoulder. "Man, if these guys were robots I could just blow them up."

" _No,_ " everyone said at once.

"It's like you guys don't trust me," Tony said, firing a blast directly into Thunderball's other shoulder and knocking him back. "Robots are _boring_."

"We trust you," Natasha assured him.

"Enough to know that robots are not going to be your go-to thing," James added.

"Let's just round them up," Steve said, sighing.

On cue, Hulk landed in their midst, crumpling the asphalt beneath his feet; he tossed the unconscious form of Piledriver on top of Wrecker, huffing in disgust. Peggy pulled to a stop seconds later, head tilting as she scanned them with her visor. She didn't flinch as Hulk dumped the other three members of the Crew on top of Wrecker.

"That was fast," Peggy said, head turning to Tony. He couldn't see her face, but he knew what look she was wearing.

"We have a plan now," Tony answered. "These guys are chumps."

"Curse you," Wrecker said faintly, twitching feebly under the weight of his fellow teammates.

"Been there, done that," Tony said loftily, sending a message to the force in charge of picking up villainous superhumans. "And you're being sent back to where you belong, which is sadly not the sewer system."

"Considering it's sentient, that could be classified as abuse," Natasha pointed out.

"It's not sentient any _more_ ," Tony protested. He and Gadreel had made sure of that, and Tony'd gone to tell Reed off.

"It was still sentient."

"Does that mean it's technically a corpse now?" Clint asked, glancing down.

"If this shows up on twitter and people start petitioning for the sewers to be buried, I'm blaming you," Steve told him.

"It's technically already buried," Tony said. "Y'know, since it's under our feet and all."

"They'll argue for moving it," Peggy said, smirking. "We can't have a corpse being desecrated."

"Why are we talking about corpses?" Bruce asked, confused, having de-Hulked a few seconds ago. Hulk hadn't seemed very intrigued in their sewer system conversation.

"Because," Clint said unhelpfully, offering him a jacket.

"Because why?" Bruce frowned.

"Because it's a sewer system and I'm in the mood for pizza," Steve said firmly, hitching his shield on his back.

"That doesn't even make any sense," Bruce said, zipping up the jacket. "But I'm good with pizza."

"I'll order in," Tony said. "Same as usual?"

"No anchovies," Clint said immediately.

"Have we _ever_ gotten it with anchovies?" Tony asked.

"I don't think so," Steve replied. "They are pretty gross."

"Extra cheese," Natasha said noncommittally, inspecting her Widow's Bites far too innocently.

" _Lots_ of cheese," James added.

"I'll take extra meat," Bruce said.

"So same order as usual." Tony let JARVIS finalize the order on the HUD of the suit before sending it off. "Last one back tips the delivery kid."

"Do you _remember_ what happened last time Steve went to do that?" Clint protested.

Since Steve had incidentally been shirtless thanks to an unfortunate spillage of hot chocolate moments prior to opening the door, the memory was fresh.

"I don't think the kid was complaining," Peggy said thoughtfully.

"Who would complain when confronted with that?" Tony teased. "Unless the person in question had nudity issues or something."

"Ha, ha," Steve said sarcastically, a blush dusting his cheeks. "Can we talk about something _other_ than me being shirtless?"

"Preferably on the way back to the tower," Clint said. "I'm starving."

"I call a ride back with Tony," Natasha said. "I don't have any money for a tip."

Clint wrinkled his nose. "Pass on that, unless it's with the suit and not your weird magic thing."

"It's called flying, and it's only magic if I don't feel like using my wings," Tony shot back. "But if you want to hang onto the suit across half of New York, feel free. I'll ask Gadreel to catch you if you fall."

"Like I said, pass."

Shrugging, Tony held out an arm for Natasha to hold onto. "Your decision." Then, without a second's warning, he took off.

There were several outraged exclamations over the comm, accompanied by Natasha's snicker as she clung to his side.

"They're going to get you for that," she told him, the suit's microphone easily picking up on her voice.

Tony grinned, eyes on the rapidly approaching tower. "Bring it." He didn't mind.

Everything was as it should be.

* * *

 **Read and review, and I hope you enjoyed this!**


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